One More Clue
by BG Sparrow
Summary: Sequel to Another Clue. A new historian is on the map after discovering Roanoke, but it isn't a map he needs to find its treasure: it's a compass. Rules everchanging, Ben, Riley, Abigail, & Carolyn risk it all when the compass surfaces in their possession
1. Howe Estate

**You wanted it, you got it (just don't ask for a third! Haha). I think I've come up with a sequel that will not only be as fun, exciting, and adventurous as Another Clue, but maybe more. I've done tons of research to make this story historically accurate and enjoyable just like I did for Another Clue, and I've created another treasure hunt I know most of you will be intrigued to follow. Not just the treasure hunting, but the characters as well, are much more involved. I look forward to keeping you all on the edge of your seats, and you can expect this to be a quality story. Also note that Book of Secrets won't be referenced to too much, but in my universe it falls after National Treasure (obviously) and before Another Clue. I definitely suggest that if you haven't read Another Clue yet that you do it first or it'll be hard to follow this. Thanks again for locking me in a closet til I wrote this, lol. Updates may take some time though; I am a college student with a part-time job after all. Please leave a review if you loved it, hated it, have a question, or want to criticize – I respond to **_**all my reviewers.**_** It's only nice. Well, go on. Go read. I've kept you in suspense long enough.**

_**Also check out the trailer for this story on YouTube! Link in my profile!**_

_Dis/Claimer – You know what I own and what I don't. You can hug my characters and my plot, just don't kidnap them. I own nothing from/ related to National Treasure. Thank you._

**x x x**

**. Prologue .**

_The dark stretch of road seemed endless in all directions. She sat under a single purple-blue light in the bus stop blind with anger, her muddy legs stretched out on the plastic blue bench aching somewhat. The rain picked up, and she pushed her things under the bench to better shelter them, including a canvas primitively protected by a thin garbage bag. The young woman twisted her damp hair, tucked it into the back of her jacket, and pulled the hood over her head. The rain pounded loudly off the flimsy aluminum roof above her while slapping into the glass violently. Her body was demanding rest, so she leaned her head to the glass and closed her eyes._

_Some time passed. More rain fell. No bus had yet come. _

_She decided to try and walk further into the city when the rain let up a little, whenever that time came to pass. At least there was no thunder or lightning or hail – just rain. Carefully, she leaned over the bench to check on her things, adjusting the black trash bag around her latest unfinished oil painting. Her bag of secondhand supplies was fine, and so was the suitcase that had been roughly filled with any and all food and clothes that would fit. The blowing rain had reached them but not too much._

_As she sat up, ready to ease her head back onto the cold glass again, her eyes caught sight of a set of headlights. They were not approaching alarmingly fast, but they grew brighter and bigger relatively quickly. A familiarity suddenly befell her, and she turned her head away rigidly but to no avail. The car slowed to a stop right in front of the tiny bus stop, its windshield wipers moving furiously back and forth. She glared over at the dark interior of the car, and the passenger window rolled down. Ultimately, she rolled her eyes and got up stubbornly, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked into the downpour and crouched before the window._

_"What?" she yelled over the rain._

_The man behind the steering wheel in his late twenties just looked at her. His silence intensified her scorn._

_"I'm not-"_

_"I'm not trying to get you to come back," he said loudly, overriding her. "In all honesty, I'm as happy as a lark you've decided to up and go. I'm actually here to extend you a ride to the airport and pay your way to wherever your little heart desires to go. The farther, the better in my opinion."_

_The girl's lip curled as she made a sound of disgust. "Yeah, I bet Mum and Dad would love that. They tell you to do this?"_

_"No, I am the schemer of it," he assured her. "They probably don't even know I've gone. Pretty bold to make such a fiasco in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner," he then commented. "I don't even think I would've done it-"_

"_Why do you want to take me the airport?" she asked abruptly._

" _I… thought it might be a nice parting gift for the both of us. Put all the distance between us as fast as possible. Eighteen… time to be out on your own anyway. I actually thought you'd leave sooner than this."_

_Her hard stare was softening somewhat as he met her eyes, but she kept her suspicions about her. "Why would I accept anything from you?"_

_"We both want it, Carolyn," he said, striking the truth within her. "You and I, we want this to end as soon as possible. A plane ticket is a small price to pay to make everyone happy, and I'm willing to do it."_

_She looked at the wet pavement in thought. The rain soaked through to her skin with driving force, but her mind was occupied more with a golden opportunity at the freedom she was out to obtain. Slowly she looked back up, eyes narrowed in defense._

_"You'll pay for any flight? No questions asked?"_

_He nodded resolutely. "No questions asked."_

_She nodded as well and drew deep eye contact with him. Time to see if her bargaining skills were up to par, not that she had really ever practiced them._

_"You're only going to drop me off at the terminal. No following me."_

"_Wouldn't dream of it."_

" _And since they're probably going to close off my bank account before I can get to an ATM, I get a flat one thousand," she stated sternly. "Covers my flight, food, room, and the rest is because you're a greedy self-righteous prick."_

_He gave a short laugh. "The rest is because you'll need it." She began shooting daggers with her eyes at that point, but he still wore a smile. "I'll give you another 500 on top of that just for the 'self-righteous prick' line. So come on." He opened the passenger door. "In."_

_Carolyn inwardly debated whether or not she was about to do the right thing as she stared at the car door; the voice of reason was drowning in her want to get as far away from them as possible. She hadn't exactly been listening to that voice for a while, though. She had been listening to herself. _

_And it was finally getting her somewhere._

_Regrettably (though filled with anticipation), Carolyn walked back over to the bus stop and collected her things, throwing them in the backseat of the car. She got in and slammed the door shut with his eyes on her the whole time, but she never looked over at him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction._

_"All these years and you're finally doing something nice for me," she commented as they drove away from the bus stop._

_"What are big brothers for?"_

_Carolyn made a sound of repulsion at his snarky reply._

_"Just drive."_

"…and drive and drive. How much farther _is_ this place?"

Carolyn sucked in a deep breath, pulling herself back into the present. Her eyes glanced up as she drove by the very bus stop she had sat in over ten years ago. Ten years had not shown it much care. Her heart gave a pang at the private memory as Riley's voice pushed it away.

"Carolyn?"

"W-What?" she stammered.

"How much farther? It's getting late and we still have to drive back."

Carolyn took a deep breath to calm her darting eyes and anxious heartbeat, taking in her surroundings again. The fast-moving pavement was dry, much smoother than she remembered. It was as dark as the last time she had been here, and the air smelled exactly the same except colder. Nothing had changed, not even her uneasiness.

"Um…" She glanced at the clock on the radio (11:33!). "About ten more minutes," she said, hoping her memory served well. "There's a fork up here and then a straight road that will take us to the house. It's not much further."

Her fiancé didn't comment aloud; he had been quiet for most of the trip. Carolyn glanced over at Riley sympathetically as he yawned. His hair was still a groggy mess even in the dark, and he wore his jeans and hooded sweatshirt under a heavy coat. It was what he tended to wear when not dealing with the more numerous newspaper and TV specials now focusing on their recent escapade of Oak Island; she knew he got sick of the suits, ties, and cameras sometimes. He was simply a normal person sitting next to her right now, though. The sleepy, whiny, sarcastic, underestimated tech-savvy geek she had unexpectedly come to love.

She smiled inwardly. _Super Geek…_

Riley yawned again, tilting his head back into the headrest. Carolyn had an idea to possibly make up for dragging him out here at all hours of the night, but she knew he'd never agree to it given the circumstances. Though it was a hopeless endeavor, Carolyn struck up conversation as painlessly as possible.

"I know you're really tired," she began innocently.

Riley huffed out a hollow laugh. "Nail on the head."

"I also know you're… less than enthusiastic about the house," – Riley's second laugh reflected it fully – "but we could-"

"Ooooh no," Riley interjected, sitting up in his seat more. "I know where you're going with this. I am not sleeping in any bed Ian slept in. I'd rather drive the hour and a half back."

Carolyn sighed, trying not to be impatient. "You'll be sleeping in it next week anyway," she reminded him much to his displeasure. "Besides, we can sleep in my old bed for the night if it's still there. Or on the sofa. It's just an empty house now, Riley. It's big, it's nice, it's fully furnished, secluded-"

"It's _Ian's_," he stressed lowly.

"It's _mine_," she countered.

Riley mumbled something Carolyn could not make out.

"What?"

"I will _never_ be happy here."

She couldn't help but giggle at his childish behavior. "You haven't even given it a chance yet."

"Yeah, well I gave your brother a chance once, and we didn't exactly hit it off. He was always trying to kill me? Who's to say his house won't do the same thing?"

"Riley…"

"Like I could sucked into a wall or fall through a trap door-"

"Riley! Are you listening to yourself?" she laughed. "This is not a haunted house. I promise."

"Haunted or not-"

"Alright! Alright, calm down," she said, taking his hand. "I understand. You don't want to live here forever, and we don't have to. But we have less than two weeks before the wedding, and we need to move out of the manor before that unless you really want to spend your wedding night there."

"We're spending our wedding night on a cruise ship to Barbados," Riley reminded her. "A nice big ship for five nights, then a week on the island, then five nights back! Just two more weeks and we actually get to go there instead of looking at tiny pictures in brochures and on websites!"

"Regardless-"

"God, I can't wait that long-"

"The house, Riley," Carolyn said evenly.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. His attempt to revert to honeymoon talk had been a miserable failure, and he didn't know why. It worked all the time! She was just being too persistent about something she really wanted. He decided some time ago he could love her even more without this domineering trait.

"Yeah. The house," he drawled, voice peevishly monotone. "What about it?"

"Don't be that way, please?" Carolyn asked patiently. "It really is a nice place. Still, we don't have to stay. We can just use it to get us on our feet for a while. I promise."

Riley went quiet. Carolyn was ready to congratulate herself on pacifying him when he asked, "How long is 'a while?'"

She blinked uncertainly. "I… don't know. A few years-"

"Carolyn-"

"Riley-"

"Dearest." He took her hand in both of his, squeezing it with a plead. "We are rich, in case you forgot. We have… a hoard of money! A well-stocked supply of green, a well that will probably never run dry… and you just inherited more!" Riley exclaimed with animated gesticulation. "Listen to me: We – can – buy – a – bigger – and – better – house – whenever – we – _want!_ That's the beauty of it!"

"We don't have time to do it right now," Carolyn said calmly as he fell back into his seat despondently. "With everything as hectic as it is, can't you be a little more grateful that a house has fallen out of the sky for us?"

"Only if it weren't Ian's and only if we were in Oz."

Carolyn thought better of it not to argue any longer. She was right anyway, and she knew he'd just need some time to adjust. They both would. Returning to this place was no more a torment to Riley than it was to her, and he wouldn't even have transparent memories following him through every room and doorway. An unkind, ill feeling began to build in her stomach as she realized how close they actually were.

x x x

The driveway was longer than she remembered, its path stretching into the darkness. Two rectangular stone pillars then appeared on either side of them, a large plaque on each reading 'HOWE ESTATE.' A black wrought-iron fence continued to line the driveway all the way up to the towering house afterwards. Riley leaned forward curiously as Carolyn slowed to a stop in front of the wraparound porch. She shut off the car eagerly, wanting to see all that had changed and stayed the same within the three story home of blue-gray brick. Riley gave a low whistle as they stepped out of the car, shining a bright flashlight on the property.

"Wooow… I'll give you one thing: it looks ridiculously expensive."

"It looks like crap," Carolyn said, walking around the car with gravel and dirt grinding under her shoes. Riley looked as if he wanted to call her crazy as she stopped beside him and did a hesitant scan of her former home. The house was an epic display if anything!

"All the rose bushes that go around the entire porch are dead," Carolyn said quietly, taking a brave step towards the house. "They used to look so wonderful. But Ian never really cared for Mum's green thumb."

Riley tried to relate, but he knew it was a futile attempt to even pretend. This was Carolyn's home. She knew it better than he ever would or cared to. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and reluctantly followed Carolyn up the white stairs to the smooth stone porch that ran the length of the front of the house and continued around its corners. The white paint on the windows was hardly 

chipped or marked, and the glass was etched with small decorative borders. He even couldn't help but to admire the light over the large ivory front door. Everything outside looked perfect (except, according to Carolyn, the lack of rose bushes). Guiltily, he wanted to see more.

"I can't believe how good it looks for being unoccupied for over six months," he said, staring at the dark overhead light. Carolyn smiled grimly as she dug for the key the real estate office had given her.

"I can't believe it took them a whole six months just to get the house to me," she said as she unlocked the door while Riley repeatedly tested the rich chimes of the doorbell. "I know there was a lot to sort out, but at least we're finally getting to see it."

Riley quickly pressed the doorbell one more time before stepping into the dark, carpeted interior behind Carolyn. He held onto her shoulder and raised the flashlight apprehensively, but the entire room suddenly filled with light as Carolyn turned the dial next to the door.

"Ooo, bright," Riley groaned, squinting initially. When the intensity wore off, they stood in a large room themed with the same blue-gray and white as the exterior of the house. The carpet was thick and the color of a stormy ocean and covered the entire room. A polished walnut staircase, not quite as large as the one in the manor, wrapped up to the second and third floors with a thin white runner. A decent sized living room was to the right of the stairs with a finished fireplace, and to the left were the kitchen and dining room entrances, along with a hallway that extended beyond sight. Carolyn felt her nerves tickle her stomach as Riley stood slack-jawed with shining eyes of awe.

"Why did your brother have to live here?" he finally whined.

Carolyn sighed exasperatedly, walking away.

"It's perfect!" he called after her. "It's completely prefect! Except for the fact that he lived here! Hey, what's in there?"

"I lived here, too," Carolyn reminded him without a trace of temper. "This is the dining room." They peered into the dining room richly colored with dark browns and reds. The heavy rectangular table was surrounded by six lavished chairs of crimson, and the walls were paneled partially with dark wood stain and maroon wallpaper. A golden chandelier hung over its center and it illuminated beautifully when Carolyn turned it on.

_When her mother had returned to the kitchen, six-year-old Carolyn picked up her dinner roll and heaved it to the other end of the table angrily, hitting Ian in the head spot on. Her brother slammed his book closed and picked up his own roll to return fire when their mother reentered the room._

_"You little brat!"_

_"Ian!" She grabbed the roll from his hand as Carolyn quickly stuffed her triumphant smile with spaghetti. "What's going on?"_

_"She is throwing food at me," he explained. "I cannot adequately prepare for my SATs when I am having dinner rolls pelted at me from across the room."_

_"Carolyn, upstairs."_

_"Moooom! He hid my Lily doll and won't give it baaaaack!"_

_"You know how important these tests are for your brother's future and he needs to study without interruption! Upstairs!"_

_"But-"_

_"Now!"_

She remembered Ian smirking and trying to take her plate with her but her mother forbade it. She told her she deserved to go hungry if she was throwing her food at her brother anyway. About four months later she found out Ian had caught Lily doll on fire with some friends one night and did not speak to him for a solid three weeks.

Riley, however, was already walking around the table to the kitchen entrance amidst her daydream. She hurried after him.

"Ooookaaay…" Riley smiled happily for the first time as he stood on the threshold of the rustic kitchen filled with relatively new appliances. It was spacious with dark beams crisscrossing on the ceiling and smelled of apple cinnamon, luring him in against his will. Carolyn laughed as she walked over to the wooden doors of the pantry. Figures his favorite room would be the kitchen.

"Am I winning you over yet, Mr. Poole?" she asked, seeing that most of the jarred fruit from years past still sitting in the dark corner of the upper shelves. She closed it and walked over to the window above the sink where Riley stood, pushed it open, and flipped another light switch that flooded the porch outside. Riley leaned over the sink into the February cold with interest as she smiled and continued her role play. "You'll see that the yard is quite large as well; perfect for large families, pets, outdoor projects, and parties. It can accommodate a number of people at one time and has a deck and swimming pool just on the opposite side of the house if I may persuade you to follow me in that direction..."

Riley looked over at her, sensing an undertone of seduction in her voice.

Two could play at that.

"Well, Miss Howe, I still need convincing before I can commit," he said as he put his arms around her slowly. "I'm quite concerned of what the previous owner did with the property. I need an updated list of booby traps and revolving library walls to look over for starters."

Carolyn laughed. "I'm afraid I've misplaced it. Come on, there's still a lot to see."

Riley seemed put out when she walked away, but she only smiled. "Hey, let's go! We still have two whole floors and five bedrooms to see."

"Yeah, big whoop-"

Riley then thought he saw her wink as she turned to go, a spark of intrigue igniting his tired mind. With an arched eyebrow, he left the kitchen with a little more liveliness in his stride.

"How many bedrooms now?"

"Five."

"Five? That's a lot."

"Yeah."

"Yeah…"

x x x

After another fifteen minutes of touring the house (five of which were spent ogling at the giant crystal chandelier at the top of the staircase by Riley), Carolyn led Riley into what used to be her room on the third floor. She snapped on the light gingerly as they went into the brilliant blue room, obscure angles of the roof forming a strange ceiling above them. A skylight sent moonlight onto the floor faintly amongst her bed, desk, bookshelf, wardrobe, and vanity. A cluster of other discarded junk and boxes were also in the room; things Ian did not want or need, she figured. In the pile lay her first art easel that her ninth grade art teacher had given her.

"_All mine? You're sure?" she asked with a large grin._

_Mr. Fowler nodded approvingly after emerging from the cluttered supply room. "All yours," he emphasized. "Besides, we're getting new ones over the summer. I want you to come back in the fall ready for the real thing. You've got great potential."_

_She smiled, glancing at her gift excitedly. "Thank you. I'll be ready."_

"_Don't forget I have a class at the Murphy Center Wednesday nights this summer, too."_

"_Already signed up," she reported happily. "You'll be stuck with me until graduation now, I hope you know that."_

"_Thanks for the warning," he joked as she left the room._

_The next fall on a Tuesday in October, the principal announced that Mr. Fowler had suffered a heart attack and died. _

Mrs. Vinn had been just as supportive and kind for the rest of high school, but she had always missed the man that had first introduced her to art. Carolyn knelt at the forgotten easel, touching its broken pieces sadly.

"Your room was very blue," Riley observed awkwardly. "Were your parents expecting another boy or something?"

"No, this was Ian's nursery," she explained, standing up. "They gave him his room on the second floor when he got older, and I got this when I was born. They told me they always meant to move me into the guest room or something, but then I started going against their grain, and it was enough of an excuse for them to keep me up here out of the way."

"That _screams_ Hunchback of Notre Dame," Riley said, earning a chuckle from her. "Did you ring any giant bells? I wouldn't be surprised if there were several up here…"

Carolyn tossed her head from side to side indifferently as Riley followed her through the assorted junk. "Not so much."

"You sure?"

"Let's just say you should be able to draw the conclusion as to why I don't particularly care for the color blue," she said with a mock smile over her shoulder. He paused in thought.

"_Nice dress by the way."_

_Carolyn looked at him quizzically as they headed towards the Fourth of July celebration in the backyard. "You think so?"_

"_Yes. You… look nice in blue."_

"_Really? I think I look terrible in blue..."_

Riley then raised his eyebrows, now looking around the room rigidly.

That had been the first time she expressed hatred for the color, and many, _many_ more had risen in its wake during their relationship.

"Now it all makes sense…"

"The only thing… I liked about this room," – Carolyn walked up to a large glass window an opened it – "was that I had this little balcony right next to this tree," she said, leading Riley onto the stout ledge. A large tree branch was perfectly accessible to the left; Carolyn stepped up onto the small railing and transferred herself over into the tree with Riley's help. He smiled as she sat down on the thick branch and swung her legs absentmindedly. "I always went out at night when I could, and they never found out."

"Never?" he asked doubtfully.

"No one ever came up to the third floor to bother with me," Carolyn told him. "Though, if I hadn't had this tree, I would have lost my mind."

"See? You succumbed to psychological damages here-"

"God… you're insane!" she laughed.

"-so what makes you think I would want to live here?" he asked, leaning onto the railing towards her. "Expose my potential family to such harsh, foreboding conditions?"

Carolyn's eyes suddenly filled with delight. "Potential family?"

Riley averted his eyes briefly (he went and said it!) before smiling back up at her. "I'm not having this conversation yet."

"Oh yes we are-"

"No-"

"Riley. Come on. It's just talk," she said. "A baby is not going to magically appear by mentioning it."

Riley felt a light flutter in his stomach at the taboo word. "No," he laughed with flaming red cheeks, "but let's just not talk about it for a while just in case… Besides, I did say 'yet,'" he added gently at her pout.

He held out his arm to her, playing up his loveable face as much as he could. A smile grew from her frown, and she rose from the tree branch to accept his help back to the miniature balcony. Once Riley set her feet back on solid ground, Carolyn was ready to continue the conversation he was consistently avoiding, but then a miracle occurred – his cell phone rang. Carolyn's words turned to air rushing out of her lungs, and he made a face of triumph as he pulled the phone from his jacket.

"Ha ha…"

"There's still the ride home, Riley…"

"Yeah, okay… Hello?"

"Riley, it's Ben."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Are you guys at the house?"

Riley made a face. "Yeah, it's okay, I guess." He heard Ben chuckle half-heartedly.

"Come on, Riley, I know Ian had it better than just 'okay.'"

"Everything's fantastic except the Ian part," Riley said as Carolyn rolled her eyes and headed back inside. Riley followed at half pace. "I'm trying to forget it for the moment, so how's Europe going? How was Italy? You're in Germany, now, right? Or wait. France?"

"France."

"Whoa, I missed the whole five days in Germany?! You didn't call! How was it?"

"Cold."

Riley nodded. "Granted, it's February… Well, France sounds fun. Still can't wait til you get back next week, though. I mean, you deserve a whole month off and everything, but we have so much to do like getting our tuxes fitted-"

"We're actually on our way back now," Ben said quietly to Riley's surprise.

"Now? Why?" he asked carefully, slowing to a stop. Carolyn motioned for him to come from the doorway, but he held up a finger. "You've only been gone three weeks."

"My dad called," he explained with a heavy sigh as Carolyn marched back over to him and hit the speaker button on his phone so she could listen, too. "Apparently my mother had a stroke this morning, and… she didn't make it."

Carolyn covered her mouth after a small gasp had escaped her, staring at Riley as she shook her head. Riley merely blinked, upset to know he had not misheard.

"Ben, I'm… I'm sorry," he stammered softly, hating himself for sounding so cliché. "W-We're on our way back home now; did you need anything?"

"Yeah," Ben murmured distantly as Riley led Carolyn out of the room and down the stairs hurriedly. "The funeral's going to be in Philadelphia, and Abigail and I are going to go stay with my dad for a few days. Could you watch the kids for us?"

"Of course," Carolyn said immediately.

"No problem," Riley agreed. "We'll be there in two hours."

"We'll get home around eight in the morning, drop them off. Abigail and I are going to leave in the afternoon if that's okay."

"It's fine, fine. We'll be there."

"Thanks, guys. Big help."

"Okay, take it easy. See you in a bit."

"Bye."

"Bye."

**. Please Review .**


	2. The Found Colony of Roanoke

**Wow, thanks to all who reviewed! I understand that most of you were quite upset that Emily died, but as I explained, it is for the sake of this master plot. It had to be her or Patrick, and I'm kind of attatched to Patrick more since I've written him during most of Another Clue (plus I'm using him in this story as well). I promise I didn't mean to upset you, but you'll see it's for the good of the story! Don't hate me! :) Also, great turnout for the prolouge! Now we get down to the main focus of the story here. I really anticipate feedback on this chapter; it's very important that it has been done well. And I will be keeping to a schedule of trying to update every Friday so you at least have an idea of when to look for a new chapter. And I will only be responding to anonymous reviews on the actual story page from now on to save time and space - if you leave a signed review, I'll reply via PM/ review reply button. Thanks again, and read on!**

. Anonymous Reviewers .

x) Rednaxela - Thanks! I'm glad to be back writing this beasty piece of fic, haha. Thanks for reviewing!

x) Allie - Yes, again, apologies for Ben's mom. Keep reading, though; you'll enjoy it! Thanks for the review!

x) Emily - I'm glad you get a good vibe just from the beginning, because that's very important. Thanks for reviewing! Glad you liked it!

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter One .**

_**LOCAL ARCHEOLOGIST DISCOVERS 'LOST COLONY'**_

_**By Alice Margettson**_

_**Roanoke Island, N.C. –**__Amongst the mysterious intrigue lost cities and ghost towns bring us and the tourist economy, there is one that has baffled historians and citizens alike for over 400 years right here along North Carolina's coast – The Lost Colony of Roanoke._

_Perhaps one of America's oldest and captivating mysteries, the Lost Colony of 1590 became famous after Governor John White left for three years in 1587 and returned to find his 113 colonists- _

_Well that's just it: he didn't find them at all. What White intended to be a few months' venture for supplies was delayed by war with Spain, and he was unable to return to the colony until 1590. When he finally did arrive back in Roanoke, no one was there. It was deserted and ransacked, and all Governor White could find were three letters carved into a tree: C-R-O. The colonists were never found. Since that day over four centuries ago, several plausible theories of the colony's fate have gained popularity, but none have been proven entirely credible. The colony itself has remained lost to mankind since its abandonment._

_Until now._

_Yesterday on a cold January afternoon, 40-year-old archeologist/ historian Maddox Whittacre of Roanoke, NC, made a breakthrough discovery at his excavation site along Roanoke's northeast coast – a perfectly preserved wall of wooden logs bound together approximately 7x8 feet. The discovery was made nearly 22 ft. underground and 40 ft. offshore. After carbon-dating the set of logs, Whittacre is certain that these are from the Lost Colony._

_'The erosion of the beaches and coastline over four hundred years is something most people have overlooked,' he said. 'It's not just right there on the beach; you have to take into accountability all of the elements of nature because this was a colony built from nature. My wall of wooden logs proves that. History proves that.'_

_Since he was a young boy, Whittacre has been fascinated with the mystery of Roanoke's Lost Colony and decided to make it his life's ambition to solve the mystery that makes his hometown famous. After graduating from college at age 28, Whittacre began seeking investors to help him make his dream come true. He told us that he went through about five private investors at first, none of which could really pull through for him._

_'I had a real good thing going with this English guy for about a year,' Whittacre said. 'I had the excavation plans, he had the money, and we had a good partnership. He had to drop my project for another one unfortunately, but everything's worked out in the end.'_

_After his struggle with these private investors, Whittacre began saving up money while moving to Wilmington and working as a part-time history professor at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. Then, when his father unexpectedly passed away in October, Whittacre was left with assets totaling over 1,867,000 and moved back home. Needless to say he was ready to finally find this lost colony he had dreamed about since childhood._

_'Not only have I funded my own venture, but now that we're finding stuff, people are rushing forward with more offers to get in on the action,' said Whittacre at the excavation site yesterday. 'It's really exciting and fun to get everyone together for this. I still have so much to do, and I want the world to witness it.'_

_Historians have begun to flock to Roanoke Island overnight at the news of the colony's unveiling including Raymond Barnes, Rand Dotson, and George Bancroft. One person whose story closely parallels and has somewhat inspired Whittacre's – Benjamin Gates (founder of the Templar treasure in 2004) – will unfortunately not be able to make an appearance. The treasure hunter/ historian is currently heading to Europe with his wife and three children and will not be returning for several weeks._

_'It's too bad I can't have him come speak at the festival this weekend, but you know he's a busy man himself. His discovery of the Templar treasure was huge, and it captivated everyone, especially the students at the college when I was there. We had long discussions on it for about a week straight until I had to get them back on track. And then Oak Island just this past summer! This man never stops… But yeah, I'm kind of along the same lines as him what with the childhood stories and all. It's really kind of cool to even be compared to him as famous as he's become.'_

_While Gates may be better off than Whittacre what with finding thousands of years of world history and all the gold that goes with it, Whittacre says that Roanoke may have a little treasure of its own still to be unearthed._

_'It goes way back to the first Roanoke Colony of 1585 and is so involved,' he said with enthusiasm. 'It's kind of a personal belief because I don't have concrete evidence to prove what I'm trying to say, but it's always a possibility in a place like Roanoke. You never know.'_

_This Friday night, Dr. Whittacre will be speaking at a festival ceremony about his discovery which he is now calling 'Project Roanoke Revival.' This nonprofit festival is open to the public, offers free food, fireworks, and a chance to look at other small items recovered from the site with the wooden log wall including a part of a bowl, some primitive rope, a glove, and purple-tinted glass shards. Donations will be accepted at the entrance and exhibit table. The festival starts at 6 P.M. and will end at 11 P.M at the Roanoke Island Festival Park._

_Perhaps with this groundbreaking historical discovery, Maddox Whittacre can help us better understand the fate of the Lost Colony of Roanoke – something surely to be treasured itself._

X

Maddox looked above the article at the photograph. He and several men were standing on the deck of his father's old fishing-boat-turned-exploring-boat as the wooden log wall was being lowered into their hands by a large crane. The sun was angled just to catch the water and the outline of Roanoke in the background nicely, along with his excited face. He looked a young forty with his dark hair under the tan fisherman's hat, dark blue shirt, cargo shorts, and leather sandals. He was still that thriving kid-at-heart, especially for the press, but now he was getting impatient.

They should have found it by now. Of course it was a very small item, but it had been a month to the day since he found the wall. A snowstorm last week had been an unexpected delay even though it was winter, but still…

He flipped another page in the scrapbook from his desk in the depths of his boat, the swaying of ship lulling him into a state of drowsiness to which he could only dream of falling victim. The clock on the wall wouldn't allow him a moment's rest; he had a press conference in half an hour, a meeting with the restoration team after that, and something else he knew he was forgetting. Perhaps dinner with some famous historian or another.

Instead of getting up from his chair to go shave for the interview, Maddox stayed seated, pushing his hand into his short hair as he looked back down at the scrapbook reading various headlines of the many articles it contained.

_**THE 'FOUND' COLONY OF ROANOKE**_

_**'PROJECT ROANOKE REVIVAL' OFFICIALLY UNDERWAY**_

_**WHITTACRE'S TEAM TO RELEASE 'PROJECT ROANOKE REVIVAL' DOCUMENTARY BY AUGUST**_

_**C-R-O: CATALOGUING ROANKE'S ORIGINS**_

_**CITY OF ROANOKE AWARDS WHITTACRE HONARARY CITIZENSHIP**_

_KNOCK KNOCK_

Maddox looked up quickly, trying to appear presentable on the spot with a smile.

"Yes?"

The woman in the doorway – his assistant Priscilla – returned the smile as she came forward to his desk. Her black hair was wet, along with the heavy coat and rubber boats she sported. Maddox knew she cleaned up much more nicely.

"I see you're finally looking at that," she said, glancing down at the scrapbook.

He leaned back in his chair giving her a level look. "You just gave it to me two days ago. More important things have been happening." He took a sip of coffee from his thermos. "What did you need?"

"We think we've found what you've been looking for," she told him. He set down the thermos with genuine interest and looked up at her as she continued. "Harper and Dominic saw it on radar and want you to have a look. It's pretty small, kind of matched your description."

Maddox suddenly found reason to leave his seat. "On radar? Is it far below the surface?"

"Minor drilling," Priscilla said dismissively as he grabbed his coat and they left his office together. "I think it can be recovered by nightfall or sooner."

A familiar excitement was building in Maddox as he dashed up the stairs to the deck. "Yeah? That soon?"

Priscilla nodded confidently. His smile grew wider.

"Great. Oh, and I do like the book," he added quickly. "I love having stuff that dangerously inflates my ego right there on my desk. It's perfect."

The two of them shared a short laugh as they entered the cabin. "Glad to be of service," Priscilla commented jokingly on their way to the radar. Maddox took no time in appearing over the shoulders of Harper and Dominic, both diligently keeping vigils on the radar systems. Maddox clapped his hand on Dominic's shoulder, making his presence known.

"What do we got here, boys?" he asked, glancing between the four monitors curiously.

Harper, a young man with tufty red hair, sat in a rain jacket to Maddox's right, pointing to the second monitor. "Something about thirty feet down, half a knot north-northeast," he said. "Near the place we found that church cross a few days before the snow hit us."

Maddox smiled at the monitor, a gleam of ambition in his eye. "Finally," he murmured under his breath excitedly. After a moment of realization, he stood up, pointing at Priscilla. "I have a press conference in twenty minutes."

"Yes," she confirmed matter-of-factly.

"What uh, what happens if I move that back an hour or so?"

"Well, it'll have to be indoors somewhere from the weather, but you'll make the five o'clock news," she assured him, looking for something on the desk Harper and Dominic had claimed as their own. She found her clipboard under a can of Mountain Dew that had left a lime green ring on her papers. Angry, she dropped the soda can in Harper's lap without a care, sending him out of his chair instantly.

"What the hell, Priscilla?" he spat, slapping the drink from his pants with no success. Priscilla narrowed her eyes on him as she turned to Maddox with her clipboard. Harper scorned in her direction and sat back down without a word.

"I don't exactly want to let on to what I've found just yet, but I want them to know I've found something," Maddox stressed. Priscilla threw her hair over one shoulder while glancing at her papers. Harper cringed as the cold water droplets from her hair showered him.

"Log says we've also raised up another portion of a possible door and a leather bound book," Priscilla told Maddox, the lime green ring irritatingly distractive. "We can report those."

"They'll work for the time being," he said. "Get the team ready to bring it up now, and I want it in my hands the moment they have it. I need it recovered at all costs. Dom, make it happen."

"Gotch'ya," the heavier-set man in rimless glasses said. He typed something with skilled speed before looking over his shoulder at Maddox and Priscilla. "Do you want diagnostics run on it when we get it?"

"Yes, thoroughly. Get it dated to the day it was made if you can," Maddox said quickly. "Just get it to me no matter what. How is the tide?" He glanced down at Harper who maximized a new window in his computer screen.

"Tide is still low, but not more than two more hours," he reported. "Winds are tranquil for the moment, too. I'd say conditions are as good as they'll get for now – another batch of snow coming tonight."

Maddox nodded in thought before speaking. "Fine. That's plenty of time. And if it isn't, everyone answers to me." He then looked pointedly at Priscilla. The woman shifted under his gaze somewhat. "Make sure I have it. I'll come to you if anything goes wrong."

Priscilla took a deep breath, unable to break eye contact. "Okay," she said quietly. "No problem."

"So hey," – Harper turned around now – "what's the big deal about keeping this a secret? I mean, so what? It's just this… little pin thing-"

"It is worth more than your life," Maddox interjected with a pleasant smile that made Harper uncomfortable. "Now I suggest that you show it more respect than just a 'little pin thing' and get it to me in my office by the time I have to go do this statement. Are we clear?"

His hardened tone and stony glare were enough to make Harper and Dominic turn back to the radars, the two exchanging looks silently. Maddox slowly pulled his penetrating stare away from them, once again focusing on his assistant.

"I need one other thing taken care of, and I'll be ever-grateful for it," he told her quietly, leading her away from the radar screens and their operators. "Can you arrange a way for me to get to Maryland on Thursday? A plane preferably?"

"Sure," Priscilla said without hesitation. "What's the order of business?"

"Well, it'll just be me going this time," he explained gently since she had usually gone everywhere with him over the course of the past year. "Personal business that I have to address."

"No problem," she assured him. "When do you need to leave?"

"Afternoon sometime is fine," he said as looked outside at the light freezing rain. "I won't be gone long. If plans change for some reason, I'll let you know."

"All right. I'll have everything ready for you by tomorrow."

"Oh! You are a saint."

"Hardly," she snickered aside to Maddox's amusement. "I'm going to call the press now and have them set up a podium for you inside the fire hall or something nearby. Are the rest of your plans today cancelled then?"

"Yes," he said instantly. "No plans for the week. Tell everyone they'll have to reschedule."

She nodded firmly. "Got it."

Maddox nodded in return, pushing his hands in his coat as he walked away. "I'll be in my office."

Priscilla watched him leave with her lips pressed tightly together, a whole mixture of curiosity, intrigue, and confusion swirling about in her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harper and Dominic turn around.

"Do _you_ know why he's freaking over a sewing needle?" Harper asked.

Priscilla sighed uneasily, still looking off in the direction Maddox had left. "No."

"I think he's letting all this fame go to his head," Dominic said. "He was never like this in high school." Harper made a face.

"You went to high school with him?"

"Yeah, he was kind of cool then."

Harper snorted. "He's a selfish jerk!"

"Yeah," Dominic admitted sadly. "But back then, he was a _cool_ jerk."

Priscilla rolled her eyes impatiently, going back over to the radar desk and slamming the clipboard down next to Harper. He cringed. "If there is ever so much as another drop of Mountain Dew on this log again, you'll be drowning in it."

"Oh, calm down and keep marching, Boss Lady," Harper said as she walked away, sitting taller again.

"Get back to work!" she called back.

"Wanna go to dinner Friday?"

"Dude, she's like ten years older than you-"

"So what?"

Priscilla shouted over them. "Now!"

The young meteorologist looked up hopefully. "Okay, we can go now-"

"Harper!"

"Fine!" he yelled sourly, returning to the monitors. "Too busy fantasizing about you rich boss…"

Dominic shook his head slowly at Harper in disappointment before he continued typing.

"Smooth, man."

Harper sighed angrily. "I hate this job."

"I bet you didn't get this excitement at the Hurricane Center, though-"

"Dom, just… shut up and get the boat ready for launch."

x x x

The chatter was quite lively for such a somber occasion. Old women in vintage jewelry and men in suits mingled with stout glasses of assorted drinks feeling somewhat uplifted after a good lunch. Amongst them all, Ben stood idly with his own drink, his face close to expressionless in empty space.

Abigail spotted him across the room and frowned. With her refreshed wine in hand, she walked back over to him in the crowd. He seemed a statue as she approached him unnoticed, but Abigail gently took her husband's hand and visibly saw him breathe deeply at her touch. Ben looked rather surprised, but Abigail smiled reassuringly, tightening her hold on his hand.

"Where's your dad?" she asked, leaning close to his ear. Ben took another deep breath, bringing his hand to his mouth as he began to look around over the heads of others.

"I, uh… I don't know," he admitted quietly with a sound exhale. Ben's eyes began to dart when he didn't immediately see his father despite the large amount of people. "We should probably find him, though."

"Maybe he went over to the room already," Abigail suggested. She glanced at the formal wristwatch Ben was wearing and tapped it. "It's almost three."

Ben looked down at it, pressing his lips together. His head snapped back up in the direction of a set of ornate doors to his left where a man in a tuxedo stood very still. A large golden plaque above the doors read 'PRIVATE.' One of these doors was propped open, giving Ben a slight nauseous sensation. He didn't want to go in there.

He stared at the floor in debate for a moment until he sensed Abigail's eyes on him, and he met them hazily.

"I'll wait here for you guys to come out," she told him. Ben shook his head.

"That's okay, this'll take a while." Abigail went to object, but Ben continued speaking over her. "You can take our car, and I'll ride home with my dad. It's been a long day; just go curl up on the couch and I'll be back in a bit."

Against her own wishes, Abigail nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I'll stop by the church and get some of the flowers to bring back with us... Maybe have something little for dinner when you're done. You haven't eaten much today."

Ben shrugged. "Not much of an appetite."

"Well, you have to eat something," Abigail murmured, having felt no desire for food herself throughout the day. "I'll see you when you get back."

Ben kissed her cheek discreetly before she left, giving his hand one last squeeze. He watched her work her way through the guests with a sense of worry, making him crane his neck over everyone to make sure she had really left after taking her coat from the closet. After realizing he was almost on his tiptoes, Ben sighed, regaining his composure. He turned his attention to the PRIVATE room after fidgeting with his tie uneasily and began to walk towards it.

x x x

"'Article IV, Section B."

Ben took another drink from his second glass of water, his father casting him a concerned glance from his right. Water was like bad alcohol today; it went down rough and did nothing for him. From the head of the table five or so people surrounded, Emily's attorney continued reading in a loud, clear voice.

"'In additional to the disposition of personal effects as stated above, I, Emily Rose Appleton-Gates give and bequeath the following below−described sums of money or items of personal or real property, as the case may be, to the following beneficiaries.'

"'Beneficiaries name: Benjamin Gates,'" he read aloud. Ben lifted his head with an inkling of curiosity as the attorney acknowledged him with a nod. "'Description of Bequest: Private Swiss Account protected under Riggs National Bank, Number-'"

The attorney stopped, and Ben leaned forward with an expectant look as he folding his hands on the table.

"Go on," Ben said.

"I would prefer only you see the number, sir," the thin bespectacled man said. "It is a high security Swiss Bank Account; its contents must be of great worth and privacy."

As his mother's attorney spoke, Ben felt a little life come back to him, intrigue working the wheels in his mind. He nodded, still looking from the will to Mr. Gilpin earnestly. He didn't even know his mother had owned a Swiss bank account, amongst other things.

"May I have the number when we are finished?" Ben asked.

"Yes, but certain restrictions are currently in effect."

Patrick sat taller in his son's defense, somewhat confused. "Restrictions? He inherited it, didn't he?"

"Yes, sir, but you must take into consideration the time needed to transfer this information so that he may access the account," Mr. Gilpin told them. "If he were accessing this account directly from the Swiss Bank, he could automatically take advantage of its contents. But, because it has a third party bank handling the transactions, it will take up to thirty days for the information to be switched from Emily's name to Ben's. We will of course take care of any paperwork since this is a matter of inheritance and let you know in a four to six week period of when you can access the account."

Ben leaned back in the chair and nodded accordingly, but Patrick still looked upset. "I want you to give him everything there is to know about this before we leave," Patrick said. "Can you do that?"

"Of course," Mr. Gilpin replied. "We can give him any and all information, but as I said, there will be a short period of time until he can put it to use."

"That's fine," Ben said hoarsely after another large gulp of water. "Just," – he coughed – "just keeping going."

Patrick looked over at his son again as the attorney resumed reading the will verbatim. Ben choked out the end of his cough behind his sleeve before reaching for his water again and downing it all at once. Setting the glass down, he went for the pitcher again, but Patrick wordlessly slid it away from him with a stern glare. Ben rolled his eyes.

"You're cutting me off from water?" he whispered, repositioning himself in his chair.

His father's reply was sarcastic enough to make Ben smirk.

"I don't want you to drown yourself."

x x x

"I just don't understand why you can't have it now," Patrick said as they got out of the car. Ben pushed his face into his coat and scarf to avoid the blustery gray wind and flurries evening had brought, quickly heading up the driveway for the house as his father continued to grow on his tired patience.

"I mean, your mother left you whatever she did, and they have no right keeping it from you-"

"I can wait a little bit while they change the information, Dad," Ben said, overriding him when they reached the front step. "We've got a few things more important to deal with at the moment. Whatever Mom left me is in a Swiss bank and it isn't going anywhere, so drop it."

"Yes, I know! Paperwork and insurance, it needs all the attention!" Patrick half-shouted, opening the front door. Ben rolled his eyes and went to seek refuge from the biting wind, but his father gave him a pointed stare, his hand firmly on the door handle. "Your mother leaving you a bank account _I_ didn't even know about is important."

An touch of smugness crept onto Ben's face. "Are you jealous, Dad?"

Patrick gave him incredulously offended look, too cheesy to mean anything than what Ben suspected. "Jealous?! I am concerned!" his father insisted as they went inside. "You deserve to know what's in that bank no matter what legal matters are at hand!"

"We'll find out soon…" Ben said dismissively, still grinning as he went into the living room to find Abigail asleep on the couch with the television on. Patrick followed after him, trying to smooth over his intentions regarding the account.

"You're not even going to open the envelope to find out what's inside?"

"No."

"Well why not?"

"Dad, it's fine."

"Ben-"

"It's – f_ine_," Ben stressed quietly, adjusting the blanket Abigail had wrapped around herself. "I'm as curious as you are to know what great wealth Mom has stashed away in a foreign safe. She probably did it ages ago so I would be taken care of if something happened to her. I'm just not in the mood to really care at the moment. We're all tired and spent, so please: leave it alone."

With that, Ben sank into the armchair and exhaled soundly, tossing the unopened envelope of information on the stand beside him carelessly. His father muttered something about changing before they decided on dinner and headed upstairs. Ben stared at the television lifelessly as his dad's golden retriever, Quincy (or Champ, as he was more commonly referred to by his children), came into the room and silently sat beside the armchair. Ben scratched behind the dog's ear and turned up the volume on the television slightly, the headline on the bottom reading 'PROJECT ROANOKE REVIVAL: DAY 30."

"-where Whittacre has had substantial success in recovering several Lost items already," the anchor reported over footage from Maddox's boat. "His representative has shared with us a list of retrieved articles from today's work, but here to tell us all about the progress is Mr. Whittacre himself, live from the Roanoke Fire Hall."

The footage shifted to a podium against a white brick background. Maddox stepped up to the microphone in a white and red polo shirt and sunglasses, his hair smoothed back from the ocean spray. It was considered his common look with the media – very laidback and casual, having just jumped off his adventurous boat to dazzle the public with his day-to-day tales. He smiled as always, dropping the sunglasses to his shirt as cameras around him snapped avidly.

"Good evening everyone, thanks for stopping by," he began with a polite nod to acknowledge his audience. "Great news from the boat today! We've got us a few more significant artifacts above the surface and several more on the docket to be raised over the next twenty-four hours. Today we returned to the Northeast sector of our search zone and found the remains of a door that I believe to be part of a small church."

"Why a church, sir?" one of the reporters asked quickly.

"Why a _church_? Well several items from that region of search have led us to think in that direction," Maddox explained after scratching the side of his head lightly. "About a week ago there was the large cross if you remember; and the purple tinted glass came from up there, it could very well have been primitive stained glass to that effect; we have two books nearly identical to one another found near each other that might be classified as hymnals? We even got another today that's still being treated. It is leather bound just like the first two, and we hope to know if it pairs with them by morning- uh, yes? Question?"

A middle-aged woman in the thick of the crowd was called on. "All of the things you are unearthing are amazing, but what we'd like to know is if you have found anything that might possibly give us a clue as to what became of the colony's fate. Anything that could impact the story of the colony as we know it and change history?"

Maddox grinned widely. "Excellent question!" he exclaimed, earning a laugh from everyone despite his own little secret (nestled safely in his pocket at that very moment). "No, really," he continued, "we have so much to find and learn and discover that it may be too early for any of that, but that is our mission: to find out what really _did_ happen to this colony and put the theories to rest. We could have a breakthrough at any time. Tomorrow, a year from now… hell, maybe we had one today and I just don't know it yet!" he laughed again (his subconscious smirking knowingly).

"There's so much to examine; every little detail saying 'look at me!' and I intend to. It's fascinating stuff, and really, everyone can come to appreciate what we're doing. Although, just as much as we stand a chance to painting a clearer picture of the Colony's fate, we could still remain in the shadow of the mystery. Finding these… these masterful artifacts can't guarantee us a definitive end to the story of Roanoke, but by God we're trying! I want to know more than anybody – it's been my life's dream. Not just to find this missing settlement but better understand and help the people better understand what happened to those colonists in John White's absence."

"What's on the schedule for tomorrow?" a man with a tape recorder asked.

"Well," Maddox drawled, "We're going to search the same area for the next couple of days… See what else we can haul up… And then towards the end of the week I'll be taking a few days to address some private business matters away from the excavation site, but the team will inch their way south-southwest until I ret-"

"Squidward! You can't eat all those patties at one time! _Squidward!_"

Riley started from the couch, squinting at the television in confusion. He looked to his left immediately as Charlie hopped up on the couch beside him holding the remote. He stared at the six-year-old blankly as he continued to watch SpongeBob yell at Squidward about Krabby Patties.

"Hey Clyde, I was watching that," he said, tussling the boy's brown hair drowsily. Charlie scooted closer to Riley and leaned against him. It had been a while since just the two of them were left to occupy the couch, though. First grade was a hectic year for a kid.

"Avatar is coming on. I want to watch it," Charlie told him. "We can both watch that, Uncle Riley. The news is boring."

"I'll give you that," Riley muttered with smile.

Then, he and Charlie yawned simultaneously, sinking back into the sofa cushions more. Riley's head rested on the back of the couch lazily, eyes tempted to close. The last three days had used up almost all of his energy, what with making sure Charlie and Sally got to school, got picked up from school, made it to dance class, made it to a friend's house, did their homework, double-checked their homework, got to bed on time, and cleaned their rooms. And throwing a seven-month-old infant on top of all that? Riley's personal time was indefinitely suspended.

At least he and Carolyn could swap battle scar stories at the end of the day. It was a weird sort of comfort, but it was comfort nonetheless that he wasn't doing it all alone.

He just had to stop letting her catch him smiling at her when she was with Alex. It completely contradicted his argument on how he felt about 'the baby subject,' and Carolyn knew he was guilty.

Riley just couldn't help it. It was, in fact, cute.

Just not cute enough that he wanted all the responsibilities of it yet.

"Heeeey! Scooch over!"

Riley's head snapped up, and he opened his eyes (when did they shut?) as Sally began to push him hard in the ribs relentlessly to move.

"Ow! Okay, Sally, ow! There."

The other six-year-old climbed up on the opposite side of Riley, pulling a large blanket with her. Riley helped her distribute it evenly over the three of them before she snuggled up to him and fell silent upon looking up at the television.

"Hey," – he shook his right leg under Sally to get her attention – "where's Carolyn and Alex?"

"Alex is asleep upstairs," Carolyn's voice came from over Riley's head, "and _I_ am waiting for _you_ to finish shoveling the sidewalk."

Riley looked over his shoulder at her quickly, but she merely said, "Ben and Abigail are coming back tomorrow." Riley groaned audibly as Carolyn groaned back mockingly, messing with the ends of his hair. "Oh, I know... you're just so tired and can't move…"

"I am," he said, stretching a little. "When did they call?"

"They haven't, but I'm guessing they will before they leave," Carolyn said, kneeling behind the couch next to Riley's head. "Abigail said their flight leaves around seven-something in the morning before they left." Riley nodded, enjoying the sensation of Carolyn's fingers lightly raking through his hair.

"Eh… I'll get to it after this episode," he practically purred. "Promise."

Carolyn chuckled. "So what were you watching before Nickelodeon?" she asked.

"News… that Whittacre guy from Roanoke..."

"Really? What's he up to now?" Carolyn then stood, removing her hand from Riley's head and walking into the kitchen. He looked back at her as she began to clean dinner plates off the bar and discard them in the sink.

"Finding more stuff," he replied conversationally. "Part of a door, a book… people are still on him about 'an end to the mystery' though."

"Poor man," Carolyn smiled sympathetically. "He goes and actually finds the colony and it's not enough."

"Not for these people anyway. A good way to get his own museum exhibit if anything."

"You know, I still think I know him from somewhere other than this Roanoke business," she told Riley for the umpteenth time in a month. "I can't shake it. Like… well, I'm not sure. It's hard to explain."

"Well he's been in the news before," he said as she pushed her hair behind her ears to keep it away from the dried out fettuccine alfredo. "From what it sounds he's not unfamiliar with the whole news thing. He's just been getting more attention lately." He gave short laugh. "Go figure."

Carolyn kept her head down, scraping all of the leftover food onto one plate. "I don't know, maybe," she said doubtfully, moving to the sink with the dishes. "I've read a lot of different stuff since you found the Templar treasure," – mostly because it had literally been everywhere – "and he was mentioned here and there a few times."

"That's probably it then."

Carolyn still didn't feel like a few random articles and pictures explained her odd sense of familiarity, but for now it would suffice. She glanced up at Riley before rinsing the dishes. "Besides, we'll get to meet him soon as much as they continuously pair his name with Ben's anymore." A part of her was somewhat anticipating an audience with him. Not only was she partially smitten by his charming air, but he did have a fascinating story after all.

Riley caught her smiling when she said, "I hope it's soon."

He silently sighed, looking back at the television. "Probably when things calm down for us we'll get together," Riley said. "Just make sure you rub the stars from your eyes and lay off the perfume, huh?"

"Riley… shut up," was her guilty response. She bit back the smile and stacked the wet plates. "He may be heroic and dashing with a brilliant smile, but he's not the one I'm choosing to spend the rest of my life with. You're worth more than him anyway. Two treasures versus a colony?"

Riley whipped his head around quickly at the comment. Carolyn couldn't help but to keep laughing. "It was a joke, Riley."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," he muttered unconvincingly. "If that's what keeps you here, that's good enough for me."

"I'm not going anywhere with anyone," she assured him, "except you."

He prided himself on making her smile again, repositioning himself on the couch. "Well Ben's going to meet him eventually, and you know we're probably going to get dragged onto whatever TV special they do on it. 'History Hunters of Our Time' or something weird like that."

She chuckled. "Clever title."

"Thaaaaank yo-"

"Shhh! I can't hear!"

Riley and Carolyn looked at the interrupting twins, Sally taking the remote from Charlie and turning up the volume loudly to silence her elders. Riley slowly looked back over at Carolyn wide-eyed, and she held in a laugh, loading the plates into the dishwasher.

**. Please Review .**


	3. Conditions of Compromise

**Happy Friday everyone! I was really pleased with the way you all responded to Maddox because it was what I was aiming for - part of you thought he was okay or likable, but you were still suspicious of him. Well, keep your suspicions about you as you read the next chapter! This another big one. Big as in important, but also long - with this story, I'm writing in Calibri Pt. 11 as opposed to the Arial Pt. 12 I did with Another Clue. Still tenpage minimum, so there'll always be a little more than AC's chapters. Thanks to all of you the read and reviewed! Feedback on this chapter appreciated, too!**

. Anonymous Reviewers .

x) Allie - Maddox is all kind of shady, so keep your eye on him. Glad you're still liking it, and thanks for reviewing! :)

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Two .**

Ridden with a slight headache since the interview, Maddox had only wanted everyone to disappear so he could continue to thoroughly inspect the tiny pin. Finally, when it was very late, Maddox was able to take leave and retreat to his small home near the beach. He chose not to return to the boat; he'd slept there for the last week straight. His back screamed for a proper bed, and who was he to deny himself that? He had just had the big breakthrough he was after for god knows how long.

The house was characteristically quiet, Maddox being the only residence since his father's passing. It was a typical beach house by his standards filled with fishing supplies, seashells, and carefree atmosphere. The way it has always been preferred, to Maddox in any case.

He didn't want to go anywhere near his office, but he wandered into it anyway. Maddox flopped into the desk chair and lazily swiveled about, eyes resting on a picture of him and Priscilla the day he helped her move out of her apartment in Wilmington. She had readily agreed to come help him with this wild goose chase after four years of acquaintance, and it had honestly surprised him.

_'You're really going to come?' he asked._

_She let out a laugh. 'Why not? Better than spending the rest of my life observing. Time to start doing.'_

_He smiled at her, her headstrong independence growing on him. 'Great! Dinner on me tonight. I'll show you the search plots I have drawn up. My boat's almost finished, too; just waiting for a few more shipments of late equipment to arrive. We'll spend most of the time on the boat-'_

_'You don't mind putting me up for a few weeks until I find a place, do you?' she interrupted. 'Until your boat is finished and all?'_

_'No, of course not. Small beachy bungalow, but always room for a guest. It'll be too quiet by myself now anyways. I could use the company.'_

_'I'd be glad to accompany you.'_

_They smiled at one another, Maddox taking off his tie. 'We shall get along famously, I think.'_

He thought fondly of those weeks she had spent sitting around the house with him, waking up to the smell of coffee, falling asleep on the couch after an exhausting day of prepping the boat…

"That's enough," he groaned to himself as he stretched in his chair. As he relaxed back down with a yawn, the phone on the desk gave a shrill ring, causing him to wince. He picked up the phone quickly to make the painfully annoying sound stop.

"Good evening, Whittacre speaking," he said with a tired sigh, leaning back in the chair.

"Maddox, you're still awake?"

He sat up at Priscilla's voice, a little life coming back into him.

"Y-Yes, still up, but not for long," he said with another stretch. "Heading off soon unless something's wrong. Everything at the boat alright?"

"We're fine here, but an Agent Joseph Myers of the FBI is on the other line and wants me to patch through to you," she shouted over the sounds of the boat's crane. "Did you want to speak with him?"

"Oh, yes! Let me talk to him," Maddox said, now quite attentive.

"Alright."

Maddox reached out to his laptop and punched the spacebar repeatedly until the screen lit up. It was filled with several opened files, grids, itineraries, and news articles. He closed all of them out quickly as the patch was made and a voice came through.

"Hello, Mr. Whittacre?"

"Yes! Joseph, good to hear from you! Finally," Maddox laughed, opening a satellite window on the computer desktop. "You were supposed to call me twelve hours ago."

"I had more than several things to attend to first," the strong voice on the other end replied.

"Yes, Agent Myers," Maddox said with a schoolchild's sarcasm.

"What did you need, Whittacre?"

Noting his colleague's impatience, Maddox cleared his throat and spoke in a more businesslike manner. "I found it."

"The treasure?" Myers asked in disbelief.

"No, but wouldn't that be nice?" Maddox mused. "No, I found the pin, the magnetic pin," he whispered enthusiastically. "I finally found it, and it's going to lead me to the treasure. It's what I've been missing all this time."

"A pin is going to lead you to the treasure?" Myers asked with a skeptical chuckle.

"I just need my compass," Maddox explained.

"Well alright, so go get your compass."

"It's not like it's sitting in a shoebox under my bed, Joseph," Maddox said, typing in an address on the satellite and hitting 'search.' His tone was suddenly grave. "I might need some reassurance from you that if I behave a little outside the lines you'll cover me."

Myers was silent a moment. "I will provide you cover under one condition."

_Always one condition_, Maddox thought. "What?"

"What exactly happened to your compass that you need blanketed from the FBI?"

The satellite zoomed in close on a large house in Maryland and stopped.

"I don't have it in my possession any longer," Maddox said. "Things may get out of hand when I go to retrieve it, so I need you to make sure the law stays out of my way."

"I cannot excuse you for murder-"

"I'm not harming a fly," Maddox said, overriding him firmly. "I don't intend to anyway."

"And whose possession is the compass in?" Myers asked expectantly.

Maddox bit his lip, a slight surge of betrayal overcoming him.

"Ian Howe's."

Myers arched an eyebrow on the other end in confusion. "Mr. Whittacre, Ian Howe has been dead for the past… seven months now. His belongings – and your compass – may very well be in opposite corners of the world by now."

"No, it is right where he left it," Maddox told him matter-of-factly.

"How do you plan to get it?" Myers asked. "Is this why you need me to overlook your potential illegalities?"

"Yes and no," Maddox said slowly, looking at the house on the satellite image. "It won't be as easy as breaking and entering. He's got a custom network of security and codec on his clients' filing system no one on the outside can break. Believe me, we've already tried several times, remember?"

"Will you get Dominic to hack it?"

"Why do that when there's someone on the inside still left?"

"Who?"

Maddox's mouth curved into a smile.

"His sister."

x x x

The next day came with more snow and the return of Ben and Abigail. Riley felt guilty at how relieved he was that they were finally back, but he had his reasons; he and Carolyn were due to move into the Estate that day. So, after a quick lunch and catch-up conversation (Riley had almost dropped his fork. "Swiss bank account?"), all seven of them loaded up the moving van in the light snowfall. Surprisingly, there wasn't much to bring, though Bill and Betsy did present a unique challenge. Charlie and Sally started out helping, but they ended up exploring the house inside and out while Alex crawled around in the more confined space of the living room.

At one point, Riley found himself alone on the third floor in the doorway of Carolyn's old room.

_Ian's old nursery._

No kid of his would be raised in this room.

Or maybe he'd at least paint it a different color first and get new furniture…

He suddenly knew what he was getting Carolyn for her birthday.

Later, after the last of the truck had been unloaded, Riley and Carolyn bid goodnight to Ben, Abigail, and the children with a promise that they could come spend the night sometime soon. Riley hated that they loved the house; he had no one to side with him now, not even Ben. The fact that their once-enemy lived in this place his entire life didn't seem to have an effect on anyone's opinion but his. Riley ultimately felt alone regarding the issue.

Exhausted as the day had left them, Riley and Carolyn began unpacking a few small things before turning in for the night. Carolyn was upstairs in the master bedroom throwing some of Ian's old clothes into numerous black trash bags so she could make room for their own when Riley came running into the room, panting from his sprint up the stairs.

"I've got to go back to the manor," he said choppily, car keys in hand. Her shoulders fell, but Riley spoke quickly before she could retort. "I left your computer and the stuff that goes with it! All the software and plug-ins," he reasoned. "Oh, and, I think we forgot a plastic bin of clothes."

Carolyn looked around the sea of clothing she sat in, sure that everything was there. "What clothes?" she asked in confusion, pushing a box of t-shirts to the side. Riley fell silent as she looked at him.

"Myyyy…"

"You're what?"she asked at his awkwardness.

"Boxers," he said quickly to the floor. As expected, he heard Carolyn laugh and gave her a look. "Come on, I'm not going without underwear. It's cold."

"Fine," she laughed, tossing Ian's old shoes into a garbage bag. "Just be careful; snow's picking up."

"I know."

"If it gets too bad, just stay there til morning," she said as he turned to go. "Come back here if you can, but you know, if it's unavoidable…"

"Got it," he said, closing his hand around the car keys and heading down the hall. "I'll be back around eleven, twelve at the latest."

"Oh! Bring back some hot cocoa and Indiana Jones!"

Riley appeared back in the doorway with his eyebrows pinched together. "Indiana Jones?"

"Yeah, I'm in the mood to cuddle, sip cocoa, and fall asleep watching Indy," she said innocently at his dumbfounded look. It was almost comical.

"Do we _have_ to watch Indy?" he groaned. "I've got The Matrix in a box downstairs with the rest of my decently-sized movie collection. How about Hot Fuzz?"

Carolyn pouted. "I'm sure Ben won't mind if you ask nicely to borrow Raiders of the Lost Ark."

"Raiders of the Lost Ark?" Riley asked in surprise. "I thought I was getting The Last Crusade?"

"Nope, Raiders," she said. Her smile grew triumphantly as he sulked away in defeat back down the hall.

"Fine. We watch Hot Fuzz next time!" he shouted back to her. "And I'm still grabbing The Last Crusade!"

"Okay!"

Still smiling, Carolyn listened to his footsteps die as they descended the large staircase. She stuffed the last of Ian's shoes into the bag and tied it shut, pushing it against the other bags of her brother's clothes. She stood and stretched her stiff legs a little, now picking up a stack of Riley's shirts to hang in the wardrobe.

x x x

Two hours seemed to go by in no time for Carolyn despite the lonesome feeling of being the only one in the large, empty house. She kept busy so that the time was easier to pass. She felt ghosts of memory follow her around as she unpacked; Ian would chuckle from a doorway, her family would sit in the living room watching television, the kitchen would be filled with the bustle of preparing Christmas dinner. Some were vivid in comparison to others, but no matter what, Carolyn knew she had to buckle down and learn to ignore them (or, at best, live with them).

At one point, she plugged Riley's computer into the wall for some music to relieve the place of some of its stale silence. Up at full volume with a set of speakers attached to it, the music reached the second floor without a problem where she was in Ian's adolescent bedroom, the room he had stayed in when she last lived there.

The room, not quite as spacious as the master bedroom, had undergone some changes since she'd last seen it; specifically, it had been turned into something or the other of a small library. All of the original furniture was gone and replaced with some leather sitting chairs and a coffee table facing a small fireplace. Dust had collected on the exposed tops of the low cabinets and other various surfaces, but Carolyn conquered it with a Swiffer duster and vacuum in less than twenty minutes.

Now the heater was finally kicking on, burning a hot patch on the side of Carolyn's jeans as she cleared some of the books from the shelf. She shifted away from the heater as best as she could while still stretching to reach the upper shelves. Maybe Riley could help her when he got-

Suddenly, the music downstairs quieted. Carolyn turned around happily, but she stopped at the sight of the clock on the mantle. It was only a few minutes until ten.

Maybe the car broke down or got stuck and he had to come back?

There was no way he was back that fast…

"Riley? Is that you?" she called, walking towards the door. There was no response save the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. Confused, she made to go out into the hall.

"Riley, answer me-"

"Riley isn't here."

Carolyn screamed as a tall man in sunglasses entered the doorway right in front of her. She took several steps back immediately, bracing herself against the cabinets.

"What are you doing? Get out!" she shouted, grasping a letter opener in her hand.

"I'm really sorry for the confusion, Miss Howe," the man said calmly as he removed his sunglasses and smiled at her, "but I'm not here to cause you or your fiancé any harm. I would have knocked, but I doubt you could hear anything over that blaring music you had playing."

Carolyn relaxed slightly at this, her scorn lightening in familiarity. "Do I…? I know you," she stated curiously. "I…" She paused. It suddenly came to her, rendering her awestruck. "You're… Maddox Whittacre?"

"Bit of a shocker, I know," he said. "I promise not to make such a startling entrance next time, how about that?"

"W-Well, fine, that's fine," she said, trying to recover coolly from her scare (and the fact the Maddox Whittacre himself was standing five feet from her in her own home!). She tried not to seem overeager, but her smile was traitorous. "I, uh, sorry. It's just, I've been wanting to meet you for some time now, and it's great to finally do so," she said, shaking his hand.

"Likewise," Maddox said politely, "even in such a casual camera-free vicinity."

Carolyn laughed. "Oh, yes, it is," she agreed unintelligently. She underlined the mental note sharply that told her to think before she spoke from now on and made her smile more modest. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, leading him back downstairs. "I'm sure you've been trying to get in touch with Benjamin Gates for a while now."

"I have, but with the recent passing of his mother, I thought I might let him contact me," Maddox said, running his hand down the smooth banister. "I lost my father in October; it's a really trying situation and personal time in your life."

"Yes," Carolyn said to match the quiet tone of his voice.

"You've probably come to learn that yourself," he said as they reached the foot of the stairs. He walked over into the living room, Carolyn looking at him quickly. "Your brother, Ian," he clarified. Carolyn still felt something tug at her heart at the mention of it, unable to meet his eyes.

"Yes, it was… awful, the way things had… ended," she murmured, thinking none-too-kindly of Ian's relentless mindset to have her murdered the week preceding Oak Island. Maddox stared at her plainly, making her feel very exposed. She drew a deep breath and collected herself with a smile resurfacing. "It's done now, though."

"Ah, a riff in the family blood I presume?" Maddox asked conversationally. Carolyn was a little thrown off at how casually he spoke of it and felt herself turning defensive (even if he was correct).

"We had our differences like anyone else," she told him a little less than tolerantly. "Equally, we both had stubbornness and a passionate hate for one another that was an uncompromisable barrier between us. Having said that, there was hardly ever resolution."

"Shame."

Carolyn rolled her eyes at his contradicting statement. "Not really." She decided not to dwell on talk of Ian anymore; he was dead and he was still able to make her angry (which made her even angrier). She looked up at Maddox as he continued to wander slowly through the living room, glancing at a few pictures and items around him. Feeling somewhat vulnerable by his presence suddenly, she cocked her head to the side and gave her voice a little edge.

"So, you never did tell me why you came, Mr. Whittacre."

Maddox picked up the tone in her voice with intrigue, circling back to her. "That's right, I never got straight to business," he said nonchalantly. "Where are my manners?"

"Perhaps with whatever business you'd like to discuss?" she tried innocently. He smirked.

"Hmm… possibility."

Although Carolyn had (on occasion) fantasized about flirting with this man, his charm had little appeal and affect on her now. "Mr. Whittacre, how can I help you?" she asked firmly, boring into his eyes. He brought his smile down a bit, but not the mischief in his eyes.

"Well, you see, Miss Howe," he began, "the matter I am here to address… I would not bother to involve you in the least way since you have little or no knowledge of it, but as it turns out, you are the only person I _can_ come to about this seeing as Ian is no longer with us."

Carolyn narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Something that started, I'll say, over ten years ago," Maddox said, looking upward as he approximated the time line. "I'm not sure you'll remember; I don't even think I met you but once in passing."

Carolyn blinked. "Met? I've never met you in person."

At least she didn't _think_ she had…

"Oh yes, we exchanged hellos and line or two," Maddox said with a smile. He leaned towards Carolyn as if to tell her a secret. "I was one of your brother's first clients."

Carolyn stared at him, searching her mind rapidly for any trace of a memory of which his face might have faded into the background. Nothing was coming to her. Maddox somehow continued to find humor in this situation even though her defenses had not backed off.

"It was a day or so before Thanksgiving I met you," he told her. "You were pretty young; maybe just out of high school? It was on that staircase we just came down." Carolyn looked back at it, projecting transparent images onto it as he said, "Ian and I were going upstairs and you were on your way down. Your mother had called or something…"

_From the top of the stairs, Carolyn rolled her eyes to see her brother and one his 'clients' coming up. She hated that he was actually good at what he did, but she was just as talented in the art studio at MassArt. She wished Thanksgiving break would just be over so she could go back._

_She kept her head down to her sketchpad as she descended the stairs, but the corner of it snagged the man's shirt. She cursed herself as he stopped._

"_Oh! Hello, I'm sorry," the man said, patting the corner of her notebook. "Not watching where I'm going."_

"_No, it was my fault," Carolyn said with the flash of a grim smile. She went to continue downstairs, but the man tapped her notebook to stop her again. Carolyn and Ian exchanged looks, neither thrilled to be stuck on the same staircase together this long._

"_Who is this, Ian?" the man asked, looking her up and down._

"_This is my sister," Ian said with difficultly. "Carolyn."_

"_Interesting drawing, Carolyn," the man between them said, nodding to her charcoal sketch of a mountainous landscape. She brought it to her chest to protect it from his eyes, but he still smiled. "Very detailed. You should consider cartography as a career."_

_She said nothing. Ian nudged his client's arm._

"_Don't encourage her," he said, giving her a look as if she hosted a highly contagious disease. "Let's go have a look at our terms, shall we?"_

"_Of course." He smiled back at Carolyn although she was already moving back down the stairs. "A pleasure!"_

Carolyn shut her eyes. His face _had_ encountered hers in what seemed another life. Her sense of familiarization now positively identified, she opened her eyes on him. She wanted to believe otherwise, but he smugly lifted an eyebrow at her crestfallen face. Noticing her mouth was slightly agape, she quickly shut it.

"S- So. I was mistaken," she admitted, still coming out of the fog of the memory. Maddox nodded slowly with a subtly piercing stare.

"Oh yes, you were."

"I don't understand why I wouldn't remember it," she said more to herself than him, trying to figure out her personal mystery.

"I remember it well enough for the both of us," Maddox said in a low voice. "I think you may have tried to forget every little moment you spent in this house before you left. I came back the following week, and Ian said you had gone for good. He never spoke of you after that. Thought you dead up until a few months ago."

Carolyn nodded to the floor. "That would make sense."

"Of course it would; you said you had differences beyond time's repair."

"Enough of the sibling therapy, Mr. Whittacre," she snapped. He took a step back, but she took two forward with danger radiating from her glare. "Would you _kindly_ tell me why you are here in my home to see me?"

"You have something of mine," he stated civilly.

"And what would that be?"

"An artifact I need to further my expedition and research in matters concerning Roanoke's history," he said. He opened his mouth to continue when Carolyn chuckled. He folded his hands in front of him attentively at her rude interruption. "Do you doubt me, Miss Howe?"

"As hard as it is for me to say it, yes," she replied, heavily sarcastic in her impatience. She felt like she was arguing with Riley when they had first met, certain that she could keep going much longer than Maddox could. Their eye contact remained intense. Maddox ran his hand over his mouth.

"Alright, well, being let in on it might help," he said.

"Please," Carolyn encouraged heatedly, "enlighten me."

Maddox cleared his throat, and Carolyn repositioned herself expectantly. She was very close to grabbing the light standing beside her and knocking him over the head with it.

"As I said before, this started over ten years ago when I met your brother," Maddox explained. "I was looking for investors for excavation of the Lost Colony in the region I now occupy, but I was short-staffed, unorganized, needed a leg up in the financial department… So, I came to Ian as one of his first clients."

Carolyn tried to make it fit the timeline, and it did; Ian was just starting into the career a few months before she had left home. It checked out. She nodded once, issuing for him to continue.

"He was the best I could've come to, and he worked hard to make things happen. But, progress on my end was behind schedule and slowing down more, so it was no surprise that he dropped my project for another that showed 'great promise,'" Maddox said bitterly. Carolyn narrowed her eyes.

"Another project?"

"The Templar Treasure," he rebounded with a fantastic smile. Her anger transformed again to disbelief, curling his lips even more. "I was a prime client for about a year until Benjamin Gates came knocking on his door with a more 'realistically obtainable treasure,' or so that's what Ian had said. My project just couldn't hold his interest after that day, so my funding was cut, and I developed an unresolved grudge."

"I see," Carolyn said carefully, wondering who exactly this grudge was against. She'd have to call Ban after this. "But, sir, I still fail to understand why I am suddenly a part of this."

"Obviously because Ian is dead now and you've inherited all of his possessions," Maddox said. Carolyn was still not making any sense out of it.

"So what? He had something of yours?" she asked. "Is this about a metal detector or something? Money?"

"No, no money, no metal detectors," he chuckled before his face darkened again. "See, Ian was very good at making sure he had some form of down payment even if you were flat broke at the time. I gave him a family heirloom in exchange for his services until I could properly pay him, but I never got it back. Even after we severed ties."

Carolyn found the need to smile. "Ian was never good at sharing when it came in conflict with his greed, Mr. Whittacre. "

"So I've come to learn," he said, leery of her grin. She was, after all, a relative of the man that had double-crossed him. He searched her face for a crack in her stony expression, but she seemed impervious to it and remained aplomb. "Have you any clue what I'm talking about? Where Ian may have kept my down payment?"

"I would venture to say a bank," she replied.

"No, no. Come now, Carolyn, you know your brother better than that," Maddox chided lightly. "He keeps things close to him at all times. Why, with such an exquisitely large home, use something as obvious as a bank?"

"I'm not him," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he would have put your 'heirloom.' I haven't been in this house in years; how am I supposed to know? I'm sure at one point I'll find whatever you're looking for at which time I can give you a call, but could you please leave now?"

"I'm not one to be brash, Miss Howe, but I came with the intent of retrieving my compass from this property," he told her, taking a step towards her. She felt her courage breaking under his towering figure. "I will not be leaving without it."

"A compass?" she echoed skeptically to uphold her confidence. "A compass is going to help solve 'the mystery' of Roanoke?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, but how can you change the facts of history with a compass? And why not buy a new one?" she bravely asked. "I'm sure you can afford new family heirlooms by now."

Maddox felt his blood coursing with anger, and he penetrated her eyes with determination. "You have very nefarious insults."

"You have a very flimsy story," she countered without missing a beat.

"And what part of it is 'flimsy?'"

Carolyn made a sound between a laugh and a snort. "Ian accepted a _compass_ from you so you could start excavation. A _compass_ for the promise of getting paid without an exact date? I'm assuming you didn't give him an exact date of paying him."

"No, he simply agreed to the terms."

"Ian would _not_ have just agreed to that!" she said, poking him sharply in the chest. There was something he wasn't telling her, and she was going to find out what it was. "He always makes sure he's guaranteed something on time, and if there's any exception to that rule, it would have to be pretty big. So, exactly _how_ were you going to repay him in that he took a compass for a promise?"

"You're being quite irrational-"

"No, I am extremely rational right now, sir," she said, cutting him off. "I'm not giving you anything until I know the truth."

"It does not concern you."

"If it concerned Ian, it concerns me now," she made clear. "He knew what to expect from you if you wanted that compass back, so I want in: what's the big secret?"

Maddox found himself smiling despite the situation. "It's actually not that big of a secret at all."

"It must be," Carolyn said with no regard to the mischief of his grin. She stepped on his foot hard and slow, instantly wiping the grin off his face.

"Ow! Get off, you oaf," he said, kicking her foot away. The anger in his face rose dramatically, but Carolyn would not move for anything.

"Tell me the truth," she demanded. "This isn't about the truth of Roanoke's history."

"It most certainly is, and I swear to that." His statement was resolute, true, and peeved by her accusation. Carolyn was cautious to believe the sincerity and seriousness of his tone, but it was inarguably plausible. There was just some kind of loophole throwing it all off. Ian wouldn't just _do_ that. Not with anyone-

She paused, one of his comments suddenly bouncing back at her.

_'…knocking on his door with a more 'realistically obtainable-'_

"Treasure."

Maddox's mouth fell open wordlessly as he stood stricken, staring at her blank face. "Pardon me?" Slowly, her eyes met his torn between rage and wonder as she pieced it together.

"You promised him a treasure," she said, astonished. Maddox cleared his throat, keeping a cool head.

"I promised him double the cost it would take to fund me immediately," he justified.

"And some," Carolyn added provocatively. "You can always repay someone with a mound of shiny gold coins." Maddox said nothing as he studied her face, so she took the silence as prospect to continue. "Your treasure, not your project, just couldn't hold his interest," she corrected him. "Too small compared to the Templar's, I suppose."

Maddox patiently spoke. "What led you to such a wild conclusion that treasure was involved? Has Ben got you brainwashed or something that 'everything's a clue' and 'everyone's a Mason' and 'history is a mystery that's fun-'"

"Several articles have you referencing to a Lost Treasure, so don't even pin it on Ben," Carolyn said at his pathetic attempt of a cover-up. "And you said Ian dropped your project for a more obtainable _treasure_."

Maddox's face contorted slightly in a silent curse as Carolyn continued. "

You've got everyone thinking you're out for honest fortune and glory, yet you're only concern is gold. Not the truth-"

_Click._

Carolyn looked down. A small pistol prodded her stomach, shattering her confidence and giving him more. Maddox's fury burned hot in his eyes as if a switch had been flipped. Carolyn took a deep breath, lips shut tight.

Where was Riley? He was so good with randomly saving her, so why wasn't he jumping out from behind the corner with a frying pan or something now?

She was on her own. It was a distracting thought, but she was in no way a helpless damsel.

"I have been after the truth for decades, Miss Howe," Maddox practically snarled at her. "Perhaps that's why they compare me so much to Ben Gates. But the misunderstanding that the gold is part of the discovery of the truth is not what links us. Gold was the justification of the Gates' family history; it is my answer to a four-hundred-year-old question that will impact the world. It is a more widely-known mystery than the Templars, and it deserves more to its story than a question mark ending.

"Now, please" – he pressed the gun into her a little more – "try not to lie to me. I promised myself I wasn't going to do this."

"You make a lot of promises," Carolyn said, discreetly wrapping her hand around the tall golden post of the lamp. Maddox jabbed at her again impatiently, causing her to wince in pain.

"Where is my compass?"

"The hell if I know."

In one swift motion, Carolyn brought the heavy lamp down on his head with great force and let it fall into him. Maddox cried out in pain and anger as she made a break for it back up the stairs.

"Ah! Come baaaack!"

She heard him coming, enraged noises echoing off the walls all the way up to the chandelier. A surge of panic made her speed up to the second floor faster. Maddox looked up just in time to see her fly into one of the bedrooms. He stomped up to the landing out of breath, his eyebrow already turning black and blue. With stealth he moved into the room after her, grabbing her from behind the moment he was within reach.

"Let go of me!" she said, putting up a decent struggle. In response, he stabbed her side with the gun again, sending her back to a rigid state of fear.

"You're making this a lot harder than it has to be," he said, readjusting his hold on her. "Give me the compass. We can put all this hostility behind us, and no one else will have to know."

"You mean 'no one else will get hurt,'" she remarked, ready for him to deny that as well. To her surprise, he didn't laugh or pull the trigger.

"That's exactly what I mean," his voice murmured ominously near her ear. "You're about to celebrate an important event in your life, and I'd hate to be the one to rain on the parade because you won't give me something that belongs to me in the first place."

"I can't give it to you if I don't know where it is."

"You know where it is."

"I don't."

"What don't you understand-"

Maddox suddenly went quiet, feeling chill steel at his temple. He suddenly relaxed his grip, and Carolyn turned to face him while keeping her gun beside his eye. He still had his weapon to her abdomen, but she once again felt in control over him. They both knew it.

"What don't _you_ understand about 'I just moved in?'" she asked. She waited for him to make a move, but he swallowed his pride and lowered his gun slowly. His expression did not reflect the defeat she had hoped and left part of her feeling unsettled.

"Move in," he said quietly. "I want my compass in three days."

"Three days, that's a bit lenient. Shall I mail it to you first class?"

"Tell you what," he mused. "You get it to me before your wedding, and I won't have to break down the church door in the middle of your ceremony to get it."

Carolyn felt her heart skip a beat as her mind registered and pictured his threat being carried out. She was angry, wanting to pull the trigger for what he just said, but her arm remained stiff. She gave him a disgusted look, knowing she had already dug herself a hole too deep to get out of.

"Get out."

Maddox turned around and left then with a cunning grin.

"You really are Ian's sister," he said. "Embrace it."

Some air was knocked out of Carolyn's lungs at this.

She felt winded as he left her there, and her weak hand fell back to her side under the gun's weight. Her mind was so clouded with confusion and wrath that her memory lapsed briefly as to what had just happened, but it didn't matter. She wanted him out.

Carolyn ran out to the stair's railing, overlooking the front door as Maddox shut it behind him. Her eyes would've burned holes through it after him if they could. Just because he was Maddox Whittacre, the Roanoke know-it-all, didn't give him any right to come to her, demand something she'd never even heard of, threaten her life and her wedding, and just leave with the expectation that she'd be okay with it. No. No way. For some reason, she thought involving the police was out of the question. This was personal. He was all buddy-buddy with Ian, was he?

Well fine. All the more reason to loathe his existence.

As she heard his car leave the driveway, her heart pounded.

"_You know where it is."_

She looked over her shoulder anxiously at the only closed door left on the floor. It had yet to be opened since her return to the Estate, for more reasons than one. Carolyn didn't know where this compass of Maddox's was, but she had a very good, very sickening hunch that it would be in that room.

**. Please Review .**


	4. Compass N

**All right, here's the next part! This chapter is actually two and a half pages longer than I typically make the chapters for this story, but I know you all love long chapters and the information they give you. There's a lot to cosume in this chapter, and I hope you like it! Thanks to all those wonderful reviewers out there, and of course those who read as well. I'm working like mad to keep up the 'update every Friday' thing, but just so you know, the July 18th chapter might not come on time, as I will be on vacation July 11th-19th. Thanks in advance, and read on! :D**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Three .**

"Until the wedding?" Myers cast Maddox an abashed look as their car pulled out onto the road, spitting slush and salt from under its speeding wheels. "Maddox, that's insane! You should've taken her to it! You know where it is-"

"I have an idea," Maddox corrected. "I can't say for certain until her or husband-to-be log into the mainframe of security and gain access themselves. The system's been shut down since Ian's death."

"Then how were you able to get into it before?" Myers asked.

"Well, they didn't cut it off the minute he _died_," Maddox said, "It took them about a week. I wanted to know where it was, and I got as far as I could with Dom hacking through it before it was cut off. Patience, Joseph; I know what I'm doing."

Agent Myers snorted doubtfully. "Leaving her to wander that house, she'll eventually find it."

"I know she will."

"And do you know what'll happen next?"

"She'll take it to him, cry about my little threat, and they'll call me," he replied nonchalantly. Maddox sighed at Myers's unconvinced look. "Okay, listen. She doesn't know everything her brother did. She's catching on-"

"Catching on?" Myers repeated accusingly. "She can't 'catch on.'" Maddox shrugged.

"She drew a rather accurate conclusion then, if anything." Myers brought his hand to his face, overwhelmed with affliction. Maddox hinted at smiling; the man got so upset over the most meagerly of details. "Oh, so she knows about the treasure," Maddox said dismissively, not wanting to admit he had accidently let it slip. "It's not the end of the world."

"No, Maddox, you don't understand," Myers said. "Gates isn't just going to turn the other cheek about this. He's going to want to jump right in and find this thing. That's what he does."

"He has no business in the matter, and if he does, you move in and arrest him for… whatever you arrest him for at the time," Maddox said with an indifferent shake of his head. "Stealing, for example. Well, technically I gave it to Ian… detaining another person's personal property then? I don't know all the terms; I'll leave any intrusion to your department if I need it. Then I get my compass and get on with my hunt.

"So she can go ahead and take it right to him and try to play keep-away all they want," Maddox said, facing forward as the street lights passed continually over his face in rapid recession. "In the end, I will get it one way or another."

If Myers had any remaining concerns (which, he had _many_), he chose not to voice them.

x x x

Carolyn stood before the door and sighed resolutely, weighed down with an unyielding anxiousness as she reached out and opened the door. Her left hand grazed the interior wall blindly until it found the light switch; she slid the buttons up quickly, and the room went alight.

The study, like most of the rooms in the house, had undergone some form of change while Ian reigned supreme, but it did not look like substantial appearance altercations had taken place. The large, dark-stained walnut desk that had belonged to their father had not moved an inch, its solid frame sinking into the thick green carpet for decades now. Carolyn discovered that everything atop it had acquired a thin layer of dust after swiping her finger across the head of the gold desk lamp. It was covered in a scattered mess of paperwork, quite unlike Ian. Carolyn walked around and pulled the high back chair out of the way, pushing it towards the fireplace behind her. She picked up a paper and skimmed it curiously.

It was a photocopy of the Gates Manor layout, dated at almost eight months. Her old bedroom was circled; the one Ben and Abigail had given her to stay in when they thought she was really a continuing college student looking to housekeep for financial help. Her cheeks flared with shame momentarily, not wanting to think of it. She pushed it out of her mind, crumpled the paper, and threw it in the wastebasket as she looked around the dank room.

The wall to her left looked like one at a post office. It was filled with many boxes, each little door embedded with sophisticated decorum and a six-digit number. Under them were four large filing cabinet drawers horizontally arranged beside one another. Carolyn quickly knelt by the fourth drawer and pulled it open, flipping through the files expertly. She stopped near the very back.

'WHITTACRE, MADDOX A.'

She pulled it up slowly, wondering briefly what his middle name was despite the insignificance. Carolyn opened the thick file, leafing through scans of the excavation plots, equipment orders, conventional paperwork, contracts... On the inside cover was an attached sheet of their appointment dates, the last being about two years before the Templar Treasure was discovered. She swallowed, feeling it an uncomfortable notion that there was truth to all this. At the top of the sheet, however, she found the box number she had been looking for.

_'410074.'_

Carolyn held the file close to her protectively as she stood, repeating the number above a whisper and scanning the golden security boxes.

"Four-one-zero-zero-seven-four, four-one-zero-zero-"

It jumped out at her surprisingly fast, and she triple checked it. Certain this was the right one, she ran her fingers over the crevice below the number; no doubt a card of some kind was used to unlock the cell. Her hand fell back to her side despondently, and she quickly searched the file for the card in hopes that it would be there, but no luck.

Then, it struck her.

Carolyn spun around to the window behind her, staring at the marble sill. She walked past the desk and set the file down, moving to a framed document next to the window on the wall. She bit her lip, hoping Ian had not moved it since she discovered it as a young girl, and her hasty prayer was fortunately heard and answered. Attached in the upper left corner of the back of the frame was a tiny gold key reminiscent of the one she used to lock her first-grade diary with. She snatched it and eased the frame back to the wall, stepping over to the window sill.

Carolyn ran her hand along the underside of the overhang, stopping when she felt the keyhole just off to the right of the center of the window sill. Pushing the key inside, Carolyn turned it, and a handle fell on the top of her hand. Quickly, she withdrew the key and pushed the handle back until it clicked, giving it a very forceful push up. The heavy slab of marble stopped halfway up the window, revealing a shallow inset filled with a layout of cardkeys. A set of red, crisscrossing laser beams hovered over them. She bit her lip, not knowing how to get passed them.

Carolyn found the number to match Maddox's box; it was directly under one of the beams. Grimacing at the thought of snaking her hand through such a small space, she looked around for something to turn the lasers off. Her eyes fell on the wood outlining the left side of the window, noticing tiny little hinges on it. Curiously, she pulled on it, and it opened. A small screen was there. Upon touching it, a keypad glowed to life on it. Carolyn didn't know any code to unlock it, so she turned back to the inset uneasily, rubbing her sweaty hand on her pants.

She flexed her fingers above the warm beams and twisted her arm strangely as it skirted past them. Rigid, Carolyn finally got hold of the cardkey from the foam padding, slowly withdrew her hand with a triumphant smile, and walked directly back over to the opposite wall.

She inserted the card and took it out quickly, and the small gold door clicked open half an inch. Carolyn smiled at her success and opened it, greeted by opaque darkness. Was there anything even in there?

She reached in, feeling around a shuffle of papers. Maybe the compass wasn't here after-

Carolyn went to take out the sloppy pile of unkempt papers, but something heavy sat atop them towards the very back of the cell. Curiously, she slid the papers out more, and a small, square wooden box met the light for the first time it what was probably years. Carolyn was rendered speechless, awestruck.

It was there. It was _really_ there.

Finally snapping out of her trance, Carolyn took the box and papers, holding them close with the file. She also put the cardkey in the folder, too, for safe keeping. She closed the gold door before walking over and shutting the window sill. She hurried to replace the small gold key to the back of the document frame before heading out of the room, shutting the door definitively.

x x x

Riley flipped on the light of his old bedroom to see that half of Charlie's things had already been moved into it. His face fell, posture slumping and putting a strain on his arms that held a moderately heavy plastic bin of his own underwear. He let out a long sigh as Charlie and Sally came running down the hall, squeezing past him into the room.

"Hey Uncle Riley, guess what?" Charlie said teasingly, climbing on his bed with his sister and starting to jump high. Riley sighed again, the weight of the day settling on him gradually as he stood there.

"What?" he grunted, slack jawed.

"Mom and Dad said I can have your room now."

"Really?" Riley deadpanned tiredly.

"Yep!"

"And I get my own room, too!" Sally said excitedly, her voice bouncing evenly with her jumps. "I'm gonna have lots and lots of room!"

Riley was pouting now, only half-listening to them. He was really going to miss this room. A lot. So much. To no end. Forever. He silently apologized to the room, feeling as if he had betrayed it. Especially when it was being left for a room in Ian's house. Sulking, he slowly turned away and began to shuffle toward the stairs.

At the top, he saw Abigail seated at the bar in the kitchen looking over paperwork that was surely National Archives related while poking at a plate of leftover dinner. She looked over her shoulder when she heard him coming down.

"Got everything?" she asked.

"Yeah…" Riley sat the bin at the bottom of the stairs with Carolyn's computer stuff and walked over to her. "You've already let Charlie claim my room?" He leaned on the counter beside her.

"You sound like there should be period of-" Abigail stopped herself short. At Riley's look, she jerked her head over her shoulder at Ben, who sat in the living room behind them reading a book. Riley nodded his understanding, now seeing the comment as slightly inappropriate to be used in reference to 

his room. Abigail continued with a quieted voice and bite of turkey. "Charlie was the first to ask, so we said okay. Ben moved his bed and dresser in there before you got here."

"He's got more than that in there," Riley said.

"I told him anything he could pick up and move he could take in there, but we'll move the rest of it tomorrow." She inhaled deeply and released it with a groan, tensing her shoulders a little. She put her head in her hand and continued skimming her work. "There's so much going on right now. I hope it'll be over soon. Moving, the wedding, Emily…"

Riley knew all too well this was a big period of transition and change for them all and easily sympathized with her. He ran a comforting hand over her back to which she gave an appreciative smile. "We're all going through it right now," he told her.

"I know. It's going to be very different around here without you. And Carolyn. Charlie and Sally already miss you," she laughed. "I think even Alex does at times, too."

"We'll still be around," he said. "What can I say? I think after all this time I've grown to kind of like them." He felt better having made Abigail chuckle and stood up, stretching. "Oh! Actually, I don't have everything. Ben!"

"What?" the historian asked from the couch.

"Raiders of the Lost Ark; where is it?"

Ben looked up in confusion. "Why?"

"Carolyn wanted to see it, and I-" He paused, eyes wondering to the second floor. "Never mind," he said quickly. "I remember. Be right back. Abigail?! Can you get me some cocoa?!" he shouted, now running up the stairs. "We're out!"

Abigail smiled, more than happy to put her pen down. "Sure, Riley." She shrugged when she got up and met Ben's eyes, opening a nearby cabinet. Ben shook his head, turning back to his book.

For the umpteenth time, however, he discreetly looked over the top of the book at the unopened envelope on the coffee table. He had been able to keep himself from opening it for three days, but it was becoming too strong of a distraction now. It wasn't that he didn't want to open it; by all means, the exact opposite. Part of him wanted to rebuild his sense of excitement and curiosity to the point that he couldn't stand it so that he'd feel a little more like himself again. It was rekindling slowly but surely as his peeks over the book became more numerous and lingered longer. By now, he was simply staring at it.

And he couldn't wait anymore.

Ben closed the book with a heavy snap and set it aside, picking up the envelope and tearing away the seal. Abigail looked up from the kitchen at the sound, slowly setting a box of hot chocolate on the edge of the counter for Riley. She couldn't believe he was finally opening it.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?" He slid the papers from the envelope and collected them on his knee before looking at them. Abigail stopped at the edge of carpet and tile, stunned at how fast he read it.

"Wh… What does it say?" she asked, thinking it a better alternative than 'are you okay?'

"I don't know," he said, reading the paper. All of these words not telling him what his mother had left him were making him impatient. "I'll find out in a mi-"

The doorbell then rang.

"-a minute," Ben finished, looking in the direction of the front door.

"I'll get it," Abigail said. "You finish reading that."

"Right."

x x x

Abigail wrapped her sweater around her tighter before opening the large front door. The cold February air rushed in as expected with some snowflakes, and Carolyn stood on the step bundled up and clutching her bag. She smiled faintly at Abigail's surprised face.

"Carolyn, what are you doing here?" she asked, opening the door more as Carolyn came inside and removed her hat and gloves quickly.

"Where's Riley?" she asked without hesitation, throwing off her scarf.

"He's upstairs looking for something before he left." Carolyn hurriedly removed her coat and hung it on the coat rack with her other things, keeping her purse close. Abigail watched her with concern. "He'll be right down. What's going on?"

"I need to see Ben," Carolyn said as the pair of them began walking briskly.

"He's right over here."

Abigail led Carolyn to the living room library where Ben was still hunched over reading through the papers. Carolyn registered amazement as Abigail had.

"You opened it?"

Ben looked up and right back down at the papers. "Oh you're here. Hello."

"Yes, he did," Abigail answered for him. "Find out what she left you yet, Ben?"

"Not… yet…"

Carolyn was silent a moment longer, but she couldn't keep it in any longer. This was seriously important.

"Ben, I'm really sorry to be interrupting you right now, but this is extremely important and I need you to help me with a few things," she said on a single breath. "Something just happened. Something big."

Ben's train of thought went off track at the urgency in her voice. Lowering the papers, he removed his glasses and looked up at her, both he and Abigail not sure what to think. His mouth was opened to speak when Riley came trotting down the stairs noisily, jumping over the last few and landing loudly on the floor.

"Got it, thanks, I'll- Carolyn!" He walked up to her in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Maddox Whittacre just broke into our house-"

A clash of simultaneous 'whats,' 'huhs,' and 'whoas' drowned her out. Carolyn looked at the three of them, startled at their uncanny chorus and livid stares of expectation. She didn't know who to explain it to first, but Ben spoke before her mouth could stop stumbling over her jumbled words.

"Wait, wait," Ben said, silencing them all. He scrunched his face up in what Carolyn perceived as shock with mild skepticism. "_Maddox Whittacre_? You're sure?"

"Yes, no doubt."

"The one that's been all over the news with, with Roanoke and everything?"

"The same," Carolyn confirmed as they exchanged disturbed glances. She sighed. "The Roanoke guy. Him."

"W-What was he _doing_ in our house?!" Riley asked at length incredulously. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm fine," she said dismissively, putting her bag on the top of the couch and going through it. "He tried, but he didn't."

"What'd he do?" Ben asked defensively.

"He threatened my wedding. He also had a gun, but I had one, too."

Riley stared at her in the small bout of tense silence. He had to ask. "You _shot_ him?"

"No, I scared him off," she said peevishly before her tone turned dark. "I should've shot him, though."

"Why would he do that, though?" Abigail mused, folding her arms over herself uncomfortably. At their thoughtful looks, she continued. "I mean he broke into your house and held you at gunpoint; he wanted something."

Riley threw Carolyn a look, remembering her mild infatuation. An unlikely scenario gripped his stomach nervously. "Is there something I should know?"

Carolyn's eyes bored into him seriously, and she punctuated the look with a sharp, "No."

That was all the reassurance he needed.

He nodded timidly at the couch. "O-kay..."

"So what happened?" Ben said, moving over so Carolyn could join him on the couch. "Why was he there?"

"Apparently," Carolyn said, looking around at them, "I _have_ met him before. But only in passing." She pulled out Maddox's file and held it out so that they could see it. With a deep breath, she announced, "Maddox Whittacre was one of the first clients Ian had as an investor." She let Ben carefully take the file from her. He examined it with interest. "He told me he had been. After he drove off, I found his file."

"Look at this," Ben said, handing one of the papers over his shoulder to Riley. He took it slowly, turning his head a little until he realized it was upside down and corrected it.

"What is it?" Riley asked as Abigail joined him.

"It's the plots he's using now for his excavation of the site," Ben said. "Ian had knowledge of all of this." He looked over at Carolyn. "Why didn't they go through with the plans? It was all here."

"You showed up."

Ben did a double take, eyebrows rising at the unexpected answer he got. "I did, did I?"

Carolyn nodded. "Yeah, Maddox said he and Ian weren't far from making this happen when you came to Ian requesting help to find the Templar Treasure. So, Ian dropped Maddox's project for yours. It was more profitable."

Be turned back to the file. "Well that's interesting."

"He never said a word about Whittacre," Riley said, unable to recall an instant that he might have forgotten or overlooked. He looked to Ben. "He didn't mention him around us anyways."

"Well, he wouldn't have," Carolyn said, reminding that it was a typical trait. "That's just how he was with business. Kept his clients in a neat row but separate from each other."

"He'd talk about a few meetings with others when we had to reschedule appointments," Ben said, "but you're right; he never really used names around us."

"No, see, here's what didn't make sense." Carolyn readjusted herself on the edge of her seat, plucking a blue paper out from behind a few that Ben was holding. Riley and Abigail leaned in close as she pointed to a box on it. "This is the initial statement of Maddox's payment. There's the total-"

Riley gave a low whistle. "Whoa."

"I don't know how Ian did his upfront costs, but he had you pay a portion, right?" Carolyn asked Ben. He nodded immediately.

"Yeah, I had to have seven percent within a week of signing with him," Ben said while scanning the statement paper. "He made sure I had every penny, too."

"What?" Riley asked, squinting as he read the paper over Ben's shoulder. "Didn't Maddox pay him or something?"

"Not with money." Her comment made Riley even more confused, and she pointed to a different box on the paper. The faded pixilated ink was a challenge to read, but Riley sounded it out.

"Coommmm-paaasss N." He stood up, casting the document an uncertain look. "Compass N?"

Ben snatched it closer to his eyes. "Did you read it wrong? That's not what it says."

"No, no," Riley said, running his finger under the hard-to-read word. "It says compass. Right there. See?"

Sure enough, he did. Ben shook his head at the word that could pass as a mirage. "What does that mean?"

"I think it means Maddox paid Ian with a compass," Abigail said, somewhat amused by the thought.

"No, see, that doesn't make any sense-"

"I thought the same thing until I heard the whole story," Carolyn said in an attempt to get Ben to listen. He quieted to hear what she had to say. "The compass is supposedly a family heirloom centuries old. Now, Ian never took something like this in the place of money, but he took _this_ on a promise that once they found Roanoke, Maddox would split its 'lost treasure' with him."

It took a few seconds for it to collectively sink in, but Carolyn waited patiently. Riley's face was blank, Abigail's was attentive, and Ben was silent, deep in thought for a long moment.

_Lost treasure._

Riley's chuckle eventually cut through the building tumult his mind was experiencing with all of this information.

"Eh heh heh… Waaaait a minute." He rubbed his face with a trounce smile, looking out into space after dropping his hands to his sides soundly. He took a moment to try and reorganize the words he just heard, unable to make them fit any other way. "Treasure?"

Carolyn nodded with caution. "Yes."

Riley laughed again. Unbelievable. "There's _another_ one?" he asked, feigning excitement. "A treasure for _Roanoke_?"

"As a matter of fact-"

"Don't finish that," Riley warned Ben, defeat marring his face and saddening his smile.

Ben looked right him like he was taunting his younger brother. "-she's _right_."

Riley sucked in a deep breath and blinked. His smile was grim. "Goodie."

"Riley, trust me, I'd rather be entirely wrong," Carolyn said.

"What if Whittacre lied to you?" Riley asked on the desperate hope that he did.

"I didn't believe him for a second until I found the file and the compass," she said, motioning to the file Ben held. "It fits; it makes sense. I don't know what else to say."

"You have the compass?" Abigail asked quickly, touching her shoulder. "With you now?" Ben's eyes probed her as well.

"Can we see it?"

"Oh! Yeah." She dug into her purse and gently recovered the small, square, wooden box. Its craftsmanship was new, the design of an unmarked compass rose inlaid on the top with assorted shades of wood. Abigail gasped lightly as Carolyn passed the item into Ben's hands, and he felt the smooth wood with an aroused sense of wonder.

"The compass rose," he murmured, running his fingers over the inlay. He turned the box in his hands a few times. He huffed with a light grin. "It's made of rosewood."

"It doesn't look centuries old," Abigail observed. Riley felt more annoyed and bored the longer he looked at it. He kind of wanted to grab it from them and pitch it out into the back yard.

"Don't judge a compass by its box," he droned monotone, earning a reprimanding glare from Carolyn. He shrugged and averted his eyes. "What?"

Carolyn softened her face genuinely worried, but she put her focus back on the box as Ben unlatched the two hooks on the front of it and eased it open. The hinge made hardly a sound as they held their breath, full of anticipation to see what mystery the compass in the box contained (well, Riley only _kind of_ wanted to see; he craned his neck slightly over the others).

Once opened, the light of the room spilled onto the flat, round object nestled safely within the velvet core of the box. The compass had, as Carolyn described, seen centuries worth of time; the wood was partially dry rotted and weathered, but faint traces of paint could still be detected in its intricate sixteenth-century designs on its face. Ben tilted and turned it as skillfully as Riley would a game controller, testing its navigational abilities. The arrow moved smoothly in all directions and surprisingly kept a steady reading of 'North.' Carolyn sat back feeling lightheaded. The story's legitimacy suddenly seemed very concrete.

Too concrete.

She wiped her face with her hand and covered her mouth with it, letting out a deep sigh through her nose. Abigail leaned down further over the couch. Her head stopped right next to Ben's matching the excitement in his eyes.

"Look at the preservation of this thing," she said in astonishment, touching the thin gold rim between the wooden body and the glass surface. Ben nodded enthusiastically.

"I know, and the magnets in it are remarkable," he said, twisting it a few more times to show her again.

Both of them laughed while Riley silently wondered how they could be entertained so easily by another meaningless hunk of historical junk. The two of them blathered on oblivious to the even, agitated look Riley was conveying to Carolyn over their heads. She quirked her mouth to the side, finding some neutral ground of understanding as Ben and Abigail's voices penetrated her attention span again. They had the compass turned upside down, Abigail tracing a giant 'N' carved into the wood with her finger.

"That's incredible; the detail…"

"You think it means North?"

"I'd assume so."

"And-"

"Hey. Hey, look."

Carolyn reached out to the compass and grazed its round edges. She narrowed her eyes, thinking she had seen the ghost of finely scribed words in the wood, but they acquired authenticity at her touch. Ben, Abigail, and Riley were quick to have an up-close view. All of their heads were drawn tightly together over the artifact.

"What is that?" Carolyn asked with mounting intrigue, scooting closer to Ben to see.

"Words," Abigail said as Ben spun the compass around slowly. "They go the whole way around."

Riley couldn't help himself. "What does it say?"

Ben searched for the beginning of the message and stopped with the North end of the compass facing them. He put his glasses back on and slowly relayed the message to the others.

"'Captive truth, ye worthy, bare

'Rests upon the twilight's air.'"

He stared at it, feeling his mind spark.

"It's a riddle."

"Whoa!" Riley said. He stood up, looking at Ben wide-eyed. "Stop right there. I'm not about to go on another grand treasure hunt," he said absolutely. "No way. I'm out."

"And why are you out?" Carolyn asked with a trace of impatience.

He leaned over the couch to her, ticking off reasons on his fingers. "We have a wedding next week, I don't feel like endangering my life anymore, we're rich enough as it is, and Roanoke did _not_ have a treasure."

"Yes it did," Ben said, looking over at Riley.

"Then _why_ has no one but you heard of it?" Riley asked expectantly.

"Well, if you're not brushed up on Roanoke history and treasure lore, you wouldn't know about it," Ben countered belittlingly. He and Riley cancelled out one another's arguing with a short-lived staring contest. Riley kept his sour comments to himself. Carolyn looked to Ben readily.

"Roanoke has a treasure then?" she asked. "How so?"

"Technically, it's not Roanoke's treasure," Ben began, "but it got the name from the infamous 'Lost Colony' incident that arose in 1590. The 'Lost Treasure' was simply the title given to the first gold of the Templar Treasure trying to be taken to the New World for hiding."

Abigail was confused but smiling. "I thought Oak Island was where the first of the Templar Treasure was hidden?"

"Successfully," Ben added. "And Oak Island was accumulative of pirates, Native Americans, Vikings… Roanoke was wholly British. It was an attempt to start life in the New World with the underlying plot to hide their wealth of the Templar Treasure. It was not very large at the time, but the few people who know this tale speculate that in finding the gold, you will find the answer to the Roanoke mystery."

"So let's hear it," Riley said with a sigh at the inevitable. He just wanted to get it over with. "I need my spoonful of history sugar for the day."

"I'll give you a bowl full," Ben said with a smile. Riley rolled his eyes.

"Just tell the story. It's late."

Ben saw Abigail check her watch as he began to tell them. "As I said, Roanoke was the first attempt at colonizing in the New World as well as hiding the gold," he said. "In 1584, Queen Elizabeth gave the exploration rights of 'remote heathen and barbarous lands' to Sir Walter Raleigh after the death of his half-brother, Sir Humphrey Gilbert. She entrusted him with a charter to find these lands, tame them, and claim them for the name of England. A few months later, Raleigh was exploring land in present day North Carolina a little North of Roanoke. They scouted for an ideal hiding place for the treasure as well as an area where they could settle, and with the help of some friendly natives, they were able to accomplish this task and sail back to England with the news.

"Now the next spring, Raleigh sent a colony of approximately 108 men to Roanoke Island, including John White, an illustrator who drew maps and pictures of the area and no doubt had knowledge of the treasure location himself. But when the ships were delayed with supplies from England, Sir Francis Drake showed up and agreed to take the colonists under one condition."

"What?" Riley huffed. "Hand over the gold?"

"No," Abigail said, meeting her husband's eyes. "Drake had just raided the West Indies and Florida and was laden with gold of his own, right?"

"That's right."

Riley gave her a look. "I thought you only had unreasonably extensive knowledge of American documents?"

"And access to a library," she said with a smile, nodding around to the collection of books in the room. Riley's words were lost as Ben picked up the story again.

"Drake had just had a successful raid of the Spanish West Indies with a huge 23-ship fleet brimming with riches," he continued. "He had hardly any room for the desperate colonists, but he trusted them. Drake and Governor Lane reached an agreement to keep six shiploads of the looted gold with their treasure in return for safe passage, and the treasure grew significantly."

"So they just returned to England?" Carolyn asked. "That's it?"

"That," Ben said, "was the first failed attempt at Roanoke. The second is more famous for the disappearance of the colonists."

"There were two tries at settling the land," Abigail clarified. "Natives were friendly at first, too; they helped the colonists to farm, fish, grow crops, and introduced them to things like tobacco that grew into a huge industry later for them. But the second attempt - the Lost Colony – didn't do as well."

"In July of 1587, Raleigh organized a second expedition, this one with 113 colonists that included women and children. John White, the illustrator from the first colony, was named Governor. They were headed for the Chesapeake Bay, but Roanoke was closer so they settled there again. However, the Natives were not as friendly as Manteo or previous tribes. The Roanoke tribe killed a man while he was innocently fishing named George Howe." Ben looked to Carolyn's wide eyes with a smile. "Any relation?"

"None that I know of," she said slowly, looking at the floor between the coffee table and couch. "I guess we can always find out sometime."

Riley's groan went unnoticed. "Yay, a history project…"

"Did the colonists retaliate against the Roanoke Indians?" Carolyn asked.

"They did, but the friendly Croatoans deterred the mess and established neutral grounds of forgiveness between them and the Roanoke Island Indians.

"And then, a few days later, Governor White's daughter gave birth to the first child in the colony named Virginia Dare. He was separated from them not two days later when the ships had to return to England for supplies, but it was the last time he'd ever see them. Any of them.

"War broke out with Spain when they were about to return to the colony," Ben said as they listened attentively. "Raleigh and White were forced to give up the ships for the Armada until war slowed. After three years, they were able to return to Roanoke for their colonists in 1590. But, White found no one."

Riley, again, found his curiosity speaking before his brain could stop it. "What happened to them?" he asked quietly.

Ben laughed dismally. "Well, that's the question, isn't it? Nobody knows."

"Governor White found the colony a ransacked ruin when he came back," Abigail said. "The houses were destroyed, fences uprooted-"

"And the single clue of what may have become of them," Ben announced, "were those three letters: C-R-O. But the word 'Croatoan' was actually carved in one of their main trees with a Maltese cross above it."

"What's a Maltese cross?" Carolyn asked.

"Sign of distress," Ben explained. "White told them to use it only in emergencies, and here it was carved above 'Croatoan.' Did the colonists flee to Croatoan Island with the friendly tribe after another Roanoke attack? Did the Croatoans themselves slaughter and take the colonists? There were many theories ranging from a hurricane to a plague, but no bodies or bones of the colonists were ever found."

"I thought they were all killed in the settlement," Carolyn said, rethinking her beliefs at the new information. "But then that makes no sense."

"The colony didn't show signs of nature overtaking it, either," Ben said. "So the departure of the colonists was recent up to the time of Governor White's return. The most popular theory now is that the tribes left the settlement consciously and split; the smaller of the two groups merged with the Croatoan tribe. The larger group went to the Chesapeake Bay and were slaughtered by Powhatan, the father of Pocahontas."

"That wasn't in the movie," Riley laughed to himself.

"Neither is this: Powhatan admitted to killing them to John Smith after befriending him. Another fun anecdote is that during the slaughter of the larger group, Powhatan found Virginia Dare as an infant and raised her as Pocahontas."

"What?" Abigail asked disbelievingly. "No."

"Yes!" Ben argued. "Pocahontas was known for her fair skin, and she was twenty, twenty-one years old when the Jamestown settlement was established in 1607. Twenty years before? 1587."

The three of them looked at him dumbfounded. Riley shook his head. "I can't… no. Too much."

"For over four hundred years now, historians, including Whittacre, have been trying to discover the truth of their disappearance off three letters," Ben said. "Something so small led to the biggest mysteries of all time."

"So enlighten me on how this has anything to do with the riddle," Riley said. "Colonists disappear… Whittacre's found the colony, so the gold's gotta be there, too. Oh but wait," he said before Ben could speak. "The gold went missing with the colonists, didn't it?"

"You're getting better at this, Riley," Ben said. Riley smiled falsely.

"Aren't you the one that told me history repeats itself?"

"It tends to." He lifted the compass up again. "As far as the tale versus the riddle here…"

"'Captive' could mean the colonists were taken against their will," Abigail mused.

"No, 'captive truth,'" Ben said. "The truth of the mystery is captive, not the colonists. 'Ye worthy, bare…'

"Only the best and the brightest?" Carolyn said with a knowing smile to Ben.

"I'd imagine so," he said, returning her compliment in a smile of his own.

"'Rests upon the twilight's air?'" Riley asked. "How does a truth rest on air?"

"I don't know," Ben said. 'Twilight' didn't seem to jar anything special to the mystery in him. He looked at the face of the compass. "Twilight is when the sun is rising," he said, trying to work it out to himself. "The sun rises in the East."

"Perhaps we have to go East?" Carolyn asked. Ben shook his head.

"Where would we start from, though?"

A collective sigh of momentary defeat came from them, Carolyn sinking back into the couch rather sadly. "Maybe there isn't even a start point."

"I don't even know why you're all dwelling on this," Riley said, all eyes moving on him. "This is not our hunt. Maddox wants his compass, and I say we give it to him. It's none of our business. If he's threatening us for this, it's not worth it." He had an uncharacteristic plead in his eye. "Please, just… not now. We're dealing with enough and a treasure hunt isn't going to make life any less stressful."

As much as Ben didn't want to admit it, Riley was entirely right. It wasn't their treasure to find. Despondently, he placed the compass back in the box and closed it slowly. Riley let out a sigh of relief as Abigail and Carolyn stared at him.

"That's it?" Carolyn asked. "You're just passing it up-"

"It's not our compass," Ben said, overriding her. "Just return it to him. It's not worth risking what we don't have to right now."

"But-"

Ben picked up the compass and set it in Carolyn's hands without meeting her eyes. "Get it to him." He picked up his mother's bank account information from earlier and read it as if he had never laid eyes on the compass. Even Riley was taken aback at his reaction (but secretly happy to dissuade him). Abigail sighed.

"Ben…"

He suddenly sat up, looking at the paper.

"Is this the bank information?"

Riley looked at Ben with concern. "Yeah, it says right at the top of the page 'Riggs National Bank.' Why?"

"It says 'compass.'"

"What?" Abigail laughed, seizing the paper. She read the box containing the contents of the bank account. There was a single line that read, 'FD-E Compass.' Carolyn and Riley looked at Ben rigidly with Abigail.

"Maybe its bank jargon," Riley said, hoping for a miracle that he'd be right. "Compass might be a kind of account."

"That's what's _in_ the account," Carolyn pointed out. "'FD-E Compass' is what's in the bank."

"You can keep a compass in the bank?" Riley asked.

"It's a Swiss account," Abigail said as Ben compared his paper to Maddox's statement. "You can put anything of great value in a Swiss bank account. Not just money."

Ben couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of being on the verge of making a breakthrough as he glanced between the two papers. His mind was racing at full speed and igniting a sense of intuition he'd be foolish to ignore.

"They're connected."

"Excuse me?" Riley squeaked.

"The compasses."

"How?" Carolyn asked, leaping forward earnestly.

"Look at the name," Ben said, pointing at the bank paper. "'FD-E.' That 'E' is East. See, Compass N meant the 'N' on the back of this compass, so the 'E' means there's an 'E' on that compass."

"And there's and S compass and W compass, too?" Riley asked mockingly. He was unnerved by the silent look Ben was giving him to confirm his wild accusation as not so far-fetched. Riley swallowed hard. "I didn't mean that. Really. What if it's just cataloguing or filing?"

"'FD?'" Abigail asked.

Carolyn smiled. "Francis Drake?" she tried.

"Yes," Ben laughed, pointing at her. "Exactly! I don't know how my mother got his compass, but… wow. I guess she didn't have time to delve into it and knew I couldn't resist."

"And you can't!" Riley said. "That's the problem! They aren't connected!"

"The sun rises in the _East_," Ben said as he shook the bank paper for emphasis. "The riddle points to the next compass. And I have it. So I _am_ involved now."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gates…"

"How long until we can get it?" Abigail asked.

"Four weeks," Ben sighed, seeing this as the only problem.

"That's after the wedding," Carolyn said, echoing his tone. "Maddox said if he didn't have the compass by then, he'd show up shooting."

"Then we send it to him," Riley said as gently urgent as he could. He felt like an awful person for causing the look of upset on his best friend's face, but making him see reason was never easy. He gave the historian one last plea, speaking barely above a whisper. "Ben. Please."

Ben grimaced at how selfish he suddenly felt under Riley's begging eyes. He wasn't ready to just throw away this discovery, but he had to for the time being. He swallowed his pride and looked at the design on the couch.

"All right," he obliged civilly as the excitement fled from Carolyn and Abigail. "Send it to him first thing in the morning. We'll let him know it's on its way so he doesn't think we're lying."

"You promise, Ben?" Riley asked carefully. "Do you really promise that that compass is going in the mail tomorrow?"

"I promise," Ben said respectfully. But it didn't seem enough for Riley.

"Do you swear? No treasure hunting? Because I refuse to help." Ben felt a weird stab at the statement coming from Riley he'd never imagined the boy-at-heart to say. Riley was steadfast in his decision, though it pained him to stay that way.

"I won't help you, Ben," he said lowly with great difficulty. "I can't. I won't."

Riley felt he had just crossed a line that never existed, and it made him feel sick. Their stare was intense and heavy. Riley wasn't sure he could hold up much longer, but then Ben finally said again, "I promise. In fact, you can come to the post office when we mail it tomorrow."

Riley nodded, significantly more at ease. "Okay. Carolyn, I'm going to go put the stuff in the car."

"I'll be right out."

Carolyn sighed soundly and stood as they scattered, looking at the compass rose on the box. She looked back up at Ben, knowing he must surely have something else in mind. She continued to look at him until he met her eyes curiously.

"That's not it, is it?" she asked quietly, a large part of her surprisingly responding positively to the thrill of the encounters she could experience again, the danger. Ben looked up at Abigail across the room and nodded with a determined eye, turning back to Carolyn.

"Not a chance."

**. Please Review .**


	5. Protective Treachery

**Hey guys! Happy Friday again! I'm in a bit of a rush to get this posted with being busy today, but the chapter itself was not written quickly - took my tim as always. :) I'm glad I got such a positive response from you all on the authenticity of the Roanoke story in the last chapter. It was a lot of information to put together, but I loved doing it! Below is the next installment, and I thank all of you who reviewed again! Although reviews have been down recently, I know people are still reading this which is just as good to know. Also, for those of you on LJ, I was thinking of starting an NT 100 prompt challenge community, but I am challenged and low on free time. Anyone want to set it up for me? I'd love you forever! Just review or email me. Thanks!! Enjoy the chapter!!**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Four .**

Carolyn watched dim street light pass over Maddox's file on the car seat next to her as she followed Riley back to the house. She left the compass with Ben at his request until they went to the post office tomorrow, but she knew he had other plans for it. He had just said so on speaker phone.

"I'm not giving it up that easy," his voice said over her cell phone attached to the dash. "I was never going to."

"But Riley's not going to go along with it," Carolyn said, stopping at the red light and watching Riley rub his head in the car ahead. "He said so. He seemed pretty serious, Ben. I don't know why you lied and made him that promise. It means a lot that you're honest with him."

"Riley knows I've always been one to keep my word unless circumstances call for another course of action," Ben said. The light flashed green over Carolyn's face, and she started to drive again. "And this calls for it. He might not understand that I have to do this for my mother, but I'm going to with or without him. But… I'd really prefer he'd help," Ben admitted quietly, not knowing why he had sounded like Riley's involvement didn't matter to him. Because really, it did.

Carolyn sighed. "Well, talking to him got you nowhere, and I doubt it will."

"We're past talking," Ben's voice said as they drove into a steady snowfall. "I need him on this; I really do. He's just… washed out, I guess. I understand he doesn't want to, but he has to. It just wouldn't be the same without his whining. Or his hacking skills."

"Well, whatever you're planning," Carolyn said, making a left turn, "you have a week to do it, minus all the time you have spent preparing for the wedding with us. You know you're going to ruin my wedding, right?" she added, not sounding too thrilled.

"I'll work around it somehow," Ben said dismissively. "Maddox doesn't know about my mother's compass, but he's going to find out eventually if they're really connected like I said. I just need to see them together."

"And how are you going to do that?" Carolyn asked knowingly, still keeping a watchful eye on the back of Riley's head as she drove. It was as if Ben were sitting right next to her catching her grin. She could hear the smile growing on his face.

"I have a few ideas."

x x x

Riley only half-watched Raiders of the Lost Ark. His mind was too preoccupied, too paranoid that something was going to go all wrong because of this compass stuff. He had known Ben for the better part of seven years now, and if he could sum the man up in one word, it was 'persistent.' He never quit, he never stopped; he always found a way to what he wanted to obtain. These traits were that of horrific to him now. Riley knew he had to do back flips to have Ben even consider his reasoning (which, he'd just ignore anyway), and to see him simply hand over a compass that would lead him to discover the answer a huge world mystery? He knew it just wasn't in him to do that.

So Ben didn't want the fame, the gold, or the recognition. He had all that. To Ben, the thrill was in seeking the truth and showing it to everyone like the noble-hearted heroes you read about in books. That was entirely good in Riley's opinion, just… not so much when their well-being was being endangered for something that wasn't even theirs to begin with. And so what if Ben's mother left him a compass? It probably wasn't even a compass! And the FD-E thing? Pfft. That was a system of filing codes if he'd ever seen it. Sure, he didn't know what it meant, but banks were secret societies like that.

And what was Abigail's deal? She and Ben had three kids he'd thought they'd want to keep safe above all else, as well as a job obsessing over x-hundred-year-old documents that were priceless. You'd think this stuff would come to mind before running headlong into yet another treasure hunt – a phrase here meaning: breaking laws, being threatened, almost dying, beating your head off a wall to figure out clues as fast as possible before the bad guy, lack of food and sleep, and a surplus of 'How did I get myself into this?'

Okay, so they had found the treasures, too.

But all in all, it was a pretty bad business!

Things were changing now. Riley felt like he was leaving his actual home and parents to go off and start his life, and Ben had to be having the most difficult time with that on top of everything else. He held utmost respect for Ben, but now, other things were more important than treasure. Ben had his mother's stuff to sort out, Riley had a wedding to prepare for, a real life to start now… He knew he had Ben's support, but its foundation felt unsteady in light of 'losing' him. Riley sighed. He wasn't going anywhere! About ten miles away. Big deal.

Well, to Ben it was, apparently. He definitely had problems when it came to letting things go.

Carolyn fell asleep under his arm. He felt the tingling in his shoulder creep into his spine, and he winced at the awkward sensation when she made a small shift to cover herself with the blanket around her shoulders a little more. Riley's stomach was still somewhat ill with guilt when her disappointed face flashed across his mind, but why did she want to do this? What was so hard about giving the man back his compass and letting him discover a teeny little treasure? He figured there was a pride issue on her end. She hated her brother but would gladly defend his decade-old agreement to some maniac that goes around breaking into hi-

_Ian's house_, he corrected himself.

Riley cast a dark look around the room to make perfectly clear to its invisible Ian entity that he still hated him and thought he, Riley, was wasting precious time of his own life with every second he spent in this house.

_Yeah_, Riley thought defensively._ I hate your house. It's probably the worst house in the history of houses._

Oh, but only if you overlook a _lot_ of stuff.

Riley sighed silently, relaxing back into the chair more. He thought about how much more comfortable the one at the manor was, about how quickly his room had been overtaken by a six-year-old that idolized him, about how Ben's mind must be in overdrive on how to get around his promise to him despite the lack of sleep he was experiencing already.

Persistence was a double-edged sword that Ben knew how to wield with skilled expertise. He was dangerous with it and knew it got him places.

Riley only wished that he could see how much it impacted the ones around him the most.

x x x

The next day brought sweeps of warm wind across sunny skies to the Capital, the rise of the temperatures enough to start melting the few inches of snow covering the ground. Still, as they entered the U.S. Post Office on Pennsylvania Avenue, Ben, Riley, and Carolyn were dressed warmly. Inside the large, quiet room, they walked up to a preparation table where Carolyn opened Maddox's file and searched for his address. Riley watched Ben set the fine wooden box on a sheet of bubble wrap.

"Hold on," he said, reaching out as Ben began to wrap it. Riley nodded to the box. "Open it."

Ben sighed and looked up boredly as he unfolded the bubble wrap. "I'm ashamed you think so little of my honesty anymore. You know I'm a terrible liar."

"I know how you are," Riley said knowingly as Ben unlatched the box. "You may be a bad liar, but you're a good swindler when you want to be."

"Swindler?" Ben chuckled. Riley's eyebrows leveled.

"Come on, Ben. You know what I'm talking about," he said, looking down to see the aged compass sitting inside the box right where it should be. "Can you blame me? I mean, you're not exactly one to surrender anything. Ever."

"Yeah," he said slowly, "but for you and the better interests of all of us, why not?" Riley gave him a look, suspicious that Ben's smile was over the top. After a moment, Ben's face dropped sternly. "Is that good enough for you?" he suddenly asked, motioning to the open compass box. "You see it in there?"

"Yep, that looks good," Riley said with an affirmative nod.

"May I package it and send it now?"

Riley smirked at his sarcasm, playfully responding in the same manner. "What an excellent idea. Carry on."

"Oh, Riley," – Carolyn leaned passed Ben to see him – "this table's out of shipping labels. Could you get me another one at that table?" she said, looking over to the one on the opposite wall. Riley watched Ben finish wrapping the compass in bubble wrap and set it in the postal box before closing the flaps. He nodded.

"Yeah, hang on."

Carolyn watched him push off the table and head across the vast room. Ben finished taping up the box and fell silent.

"Is he looking?"

She snuck a glance over her shoulder. "No."

"Give it here."

Quickly, Carolyn bent over beside the table and picked up a parcel identical to the one Ben had just finished packaging. She saw Riley maneuvering awkwardly around an elderly couple as Ben took her box, placed it in front of him, and handed the other one to her.

"Hurry."

Ben kept an eye on Riley as Carolyn tucked the parcel under her arm and briskly headed for the exit. His fear of Riley seeing her was tranquilized when Carolyn made it out a split second before Riley turned around, adjusting his jacket with a spiteful look back at the old man and woman. Upon looking back up, Riley threw his hands out at his sides, mildly clueless.

"Where'd she go?"

"She went to pull the car around for us," Ben said as Riley handed him the shipping label whilst giving the box an untrustworthy look. "We're going to drive into town more and meet up with Abigail and the kids at Circle Bistro for lunch."

"Oh yeah," Riley said, forgetting about this since he heard it in passing that morning before leaving. Ben smoothed the label on the box and started to write Maddox's address on it with Riley making sure every letter was copied exactly. "We have anything after that?"

Ben laughed inwardly; it was Riley's wedding, and he was asking him the itinerary. "Carolyn has you lined up to go pick out champagne and wine with her in a few hours. I think that's it for today."

"Oh, and uh, we're getting fitted on Monday," Riley reminded him, waving his hand between the two of them. "Three days."

Ben finished the label and picked up the box, carrying it up to the window. "Yeah, around two, right?" he asked as Riley grabbed the file from the table and walked up beside him.

"We got bumped back to four-thirty," he said, making a sound with his lips as he sighed quickly. "Carolyn's going over the decorations and layouts all day Sunday, so it won't matter. Abigail said she'd help a lot, too. Thank god."

Ben nodded his thanks with a smile to the clerk before he and Riley headed for the door. "I told you my dad said he might not make it, right? He's still tied up in everything with my mom-"

"It's fine," Riley assured. "I understand. I'm not exactly family, anyways."

Ben smiled at his friend. "You're there. He'd never admit it, but you're up there."

The comment had two effects on Riley; he felt welcomed, that he really belonged there amongst the Gates, but on the other hand, 'family' was a strong word. Ben's mentoring was that of an older sibling's, and their quarrels were just as petty. A picture of himself in the Gates family portrait popped into his head, leaving him indifferent. He ultimately displayed a small smile, finding satisfaction in that he was thought so highly of.

Though, he had a looming feeling it would create detachment issues. Riley could already sense that it was. As they stepped onto the sidewalk by the edge of the road, they saw Carolyn pull the silver Audi around the corner.

"What about your mom and dad?" Ben asked, nudging him as they waited for the car.

"Oh. My parents are flying in Wednesday night. Carolyn and I are going to try and put my old bed in one of the empty bedrooms for them by then."

"Really?" Ben asked. The car rolled to stop in front of them. "Where are they flying from?"

Riley huffed out a sarcastic laugh. "Who knows?"

Ben gave him a strange look as he entered the car. Ben quickly ducked inside, leaning forward to Riley earnestly. "You don't know where your parents are?"

Riley laughed again, looking over his shoulder at him. "No one ever does."

Carolyn seemed amused as she pulled away from the post office. Ben turned to her, hoping she might have more insight on the subject than Riley did. She smiled widely, choosing to keep Ben in the dark as well. She shrugged her shoulders.

"No one ever does."

x x x

"Hey, Maddox!"

Maddox let out a soft groan, looking up from the large plots he was leaning over with Priscilla. Dominic came running up to him, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

"What is it?" Maddox asked, trying to remain patient despite his exhaustion.

Dominic held up a box. "Package."

"Dom, it goes with the others. I've told you this-"

"But it's the one you told us bring you if it came. From Carolyn Howe?"

The expression on Maddox's face changed dramatically from annoyed to surprised, sharing it with Priscilla. She was somewhat lost, but his reaction made her all the more curious.

"Carolyn Howe?"

"Sister of an old associate, paid her a visit the other day," Maddox said, taking the box from Dominic and setting it on the map. "Her brother had something of mine, and I asked her to send it to me before her wedding if she got the chance. Looks like she did," he smiled, cutting the tape of the box. Priscilla and Dominic looked on, bewildered.

"That's where you went?"

"Yep."

"Well what did she send you?"

Maddox smiled as he unwrapped the smooth wooden box with the compass rose top he had not seen in almost a decade. Priscilla and Dominic leaned forward curiously, silently pushing the other with his or her elbow for more room to see.

"She sent me the lock to my key," he said, lifting the box and admiring it copiously. Dominic snorted.

"What does that mean?"

"It means Roanoke's mystery is about to be solved, right after we find its treasure."

Priscilla jumped forward. "Treasure? Maddox-"

"Finding the treasure will determine the fate of this colony, and I'm going to do it," he said resolutely, carefully setting the compass box on the table. "You know I've talked about the treasure before, so don't pretend to be surprised. We're going to find it and get the recognition of a lifetime."

"Aaaaand... how? Do you plan to do this?" Dominic asked uncertainly.

"Very easily, Dom," Maddox smiled cleverly, unlatching the front of the box. "All we need is… a point in the right direction." Priscilla looked to Dominic, amused by the mysterious banter. Dominic kept his posture strict as Maddox opened the box.

His smile vanished, the glimpse of an angry snarl appearing and disappearing.

"What?"

"What is it?"

He stared into the box, Priscilla and Dominic on either side of him filled with anticipation, trying to let his anger flow into the edge of the table as he gripped it strong and silent. Priscilla's hair brushed against his face as she bent over to pick up the contents of the box.

A slip of paper.

"This is it?" Priscilla asked, opening the tiny note.

"What does it say?" Dominic asked in a hushed breath.

Priscilla read it to herself, knowing Maddox would not be happy. She looked at the back of his head, eyes intent and jaw firmly set.

"'Come and get it.'"

Maddox gripped the table even more. He might be breaking bones or straining muscles, but he didn't care; he was never so infuriated, frustrated, and flustered in his life.

_Gates…_

Maddox pushed off the table and walked away with the other two in his pursuit.

"Get me Joseph Myers on the phone and find everything you can about Carolyn Howe, Riley Poole, and the entire Gates family. I want _everything_."

"Maddox, I can only access so much-"

"Dom, you're a professional," Maddox said sharply. "You can handle it. Priscilla?"

"What?"

"Find a dress for the wedding. You're coming with me."

x x x

Over the following two days, much had been done, but much still needed to be done.

Preparations for the wedding were going smoothly; a sigh of relief to everyone, especially Ben, Abigail, and Carolyn. Riley was evidently happy to forget the whole 'Maddox-compass-Roanoke-treasure' ordeal and carried on each day normally, but he still had his personal suspicions about him. And they just kept getting more bizarre and unrealistic in his head until he'd remind himself that he'd watch them package and mail that compass back where it belonged.

Or so he thought.

The others were careful around him constantly now. Every sneaky execution had to be perfect; Riley couldn't see or know or hear anything. They took to collaborating in pairs while one of them would be off occupying Riley with choosing decorations or sorting out things at the Estate. Ben wrote and rewrote the riddle a hundred times, examining each one for something he might've missed. He applied codes, looked up infinite amounts of knowledge, scrambled the words, and practically butchered it.

_'Captive truth, ye worthy, bare,_

_Rests upon the twilight's air.'_

Well, 'twilight' and 'air' both dealt with the direction of East, that he was certain of by now. He discovered that 'truth' and 'worthy' were also references to East, as they were characteristics of that direction.

So he needed what he now called the East Compass; the one he believed to be in that bank account his mother had left to his name. But he wasn't getting it as soon as he'd like, and it presented a problem, what with more or less provoking Maddox to kick in the church door without an exact plan in mind. He'd have to stay one step ahead and get into the bank somehow. It was vital.

An idea began to ferment into a plan in his head, and by now he wasn't concerned with things like pleasing everyone and trying to work around anything or anyone that wasn't Maddox Whittacre.

"Well, that's not selfish at all," Carolyn commented later that night after he told her this. Riley was out with his old college roommates for the night that had flown in to see him, leaving Carolyn and Abigail free to join Ben in relaxed, open discussion.

Ben smiled from the desk in the study of the Manor; her sarcasm was as bitter as ever.

"It's going to take cooperation from everyone," he said, leaning back in the chair with his hands folded in the air. "We need minimal upsets and a good thorough understanding of what's going to happen if we're going to pull this off." He took a deep breath, looking between Abigail in the antique armchair and Carolyn on the leather sofa. He let out a reluctant sigh as his eyes rested on Carolyn.

"We can't have the wedding."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "I thought we said this? _Yes_, we _have_ to have it," she said loudly. "If we don't, Maddox is going to know we've run from him. Besides, he-"

"I _know_ we're still going on with the wedding as planned, that's not what I meant," Ben said, cutting her off. He took great difficulty in delivering his news. "There's going to be a wedding. You and Riley just won't be married when it's over."

Abigail stared at him, a short laugh rushing out of her.

"What?"

Ben turned back to Carolyn. She looked at the floor thoughtfully or distraught; which, he couldn't classify for certain. She was very still, save for her fingers absentmindedly toying with one another. A jolt within him knew this might not turn out as he'd hoped.

"Please, I really need you on this, Carolyn," he pleaded gently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abigail look even more shocked at his request (whatever, she'd get over it). "You know what this could mean," he continued. "My mother meant for me to do this and, by some weird… fate, Maddox left that compass with Ian, and now you and Riley are a part of it. I can't do it without you."

Abigail sounded doubtful. "Call me crazy, but I think you'll have to after that one, Ben."

"No, I'm totally serious," he said outright. "I need his computer skills and her… experience." Carolyn smiled faintly at his terminology, and he was happy to get some kind of response from her. He pushed on carefully. "Especially for what I have in mind."

"Riley's not going to do anything that involves this treasure," Abigail said. "He thinks that compass was mailed two days ago, and here we are with it! What do you think he'll do when-"

"What Riley doesn't know won't hurt him," Ben said, glancing over at Carolyn briefly as she sat in silent reverie. He looked back at his wife, her mouth agape in astonishment.

"Unbelievable!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "You are _un_believable!"

"Why?"

"_Why?!_"

"Yes."

"You've been keeping this from him and he believes you, now you want to actually go through with it like it's 'no big deal' and he'll just not be angry and gladly help you-"

"He'll understand-"

"Hah! I _really_ think you're relying on that just a little too much, Ben."

"It'll be fine, okay? Riley wants to do it. Deep down..."

"It's not fair to him not to know what's going on, though! He'll-"

"He _can't_ know what's going on, unless you want to blow this opportunity," Ben said acutely. Abigail bit her lip fuming, but Ben lowered the austerity in his tone, looking at her sincerely. "He will know, Abigail." He smiled like he had his own personal joke. "Trust me; he's going to know it. I can't get where I need to if I don't have him, so at one point, he'll know all about it." Still seeing that she looked unconvinced, he added reproachfully, "Trust me."

"All right."

Ben and Abigail looked up at Carolyn suddenly.

"What?" Abigail asked as Ben's smile spread.

"I said 'all right.'" Carolyn rubbed her hands on her legs, sitting up tall out of her hunch. She felt that she was placing Riley on the thin blade of a knife that was stabbing her guiltily, but she hardened up to a state of mind that was old, familiar, and enjoyably edgy. Feeling unexplainably stimulated, Carolyn met Ben and Abigail's eyes.

"What's the plan?"

x x x

"Here. Here's the jacket."

"Oh, yeah."

Riley turned around, taking the tuxedo jacket from Ben (already suited up in his own). He slipped it on with care and adjusted it comfortably with a few shrugs of his shoulders, looking into the tall mirror slowly. His expression softened as Ben smiled over his shoulder proudly.

"You look great, Riley."

Riley stared at himself thoughtfully. He examined every inch of his mirrored image in good detail; the suit was so clean-pressed, the cufflinks were shiny and bright, his shoes were hard to flex. His skin crawled and prickled at this other version of himself. He felt intimidated, almost frightened and unnerved. He swallowed and ballooned his chest with air to make more room for the butterflies.

Was this him?

"Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Ben's spine went rigid, picking up the undertone of genuine seriousness in his voice. His mind was already running ramped with outlandish thoughts. Maybe he didn't want to go through with the wedding. Oh no. He had to do it. Did he and Carolyn have fight? Was he just chickening out? They had to have this wedding!

Ben cleared his throat, trying to alleviate his alarm. "Sure. What is it?"

Riley didn't speak immediately. He seemed oblivious to Ben's eyes growing uneasily at the silence that could possibly confirm his wild suspicions of actually backing out. Ben was about to burst inside out from lack of patience and panic when Riley finally found his voice, staring intently at the creases in his bowtie.

"How are you supposed to feel when you're standing here?"

Thrown off by the question, Ben glanced between Riley and his expressionless reflection, trying to respond positively despite the lingering feeling of concern.

"That's a question only you can answer," he said to the mirror. Impatiently, he glanced sideways at Riley. "How _do_ you feel?"

Riley exhaled soundly, biting his lip with a decisive nod. "Old."

At this, Ben had the uncontrollable urge to laugh openly and did. What was he thinking? Riley leaving someone at the altar? It was suddenly all nonsense! He was overly relieved after Riley's humorous reply.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I think we all get that."

The corner of Riley's mouth tugged into a smile. "Did you hate the shoes, too?"

"Every second of it."

"Great," Riley said with a sound sigh. "I'm not alone."

A knock then came from behind them, and they turned around to see Carolyn peering around the corner at them with a smile.

"Hey guys. How's it going?"

Charlie then came running in fully dressed in his own little suit. "Dad! Uncle Riley! I don't like the bowtie!" he whined, yanking at the stubborn thing. Ben knelt before him laughing, helping him to take it off.

"All the ring bearers wear them," he said, fixing the boy's shirt collar. "Your sister has to wear an itchy dress, so you're lucky." Charlie made a face of triumph as Ben turned him around. "Go get dressed. We're out of here in five minutes."

"Okay!"

Charlie ran from the room, the thick carpet muffling his footfalls. Ben stood up, exchanging looks with Riley and Carolyn.

"Thanks," Ben said to her. "I know he's a handful."

"Aw, but he's sweet," she insisted as Riley walked up to her and kissed her. He put his arm around her and led her into the private room of the boutique they occupied, her eyes running over him in awe.

"Like it?"

"Oh, I love it. You look amazing," she said, seeing Ben nod his agreement out of the corner of her eye. She ran her hand over the crisp white shirt and black jacket, smiling up at him. "Why don't you look this way every day?"

"I'm not a mannequin," Riley replied, inducing some laughter from her and Ben. "So, what are you doing here? Forget something?"

"Actually, Ben called me," Carolyn said, motioning to him with a sly gleam she was careful not to let Riley pick up on. "There's something I wanted to ask you, and I've already gotten Ben's permission…"

"Permission for what?" Riley asked, looking between them curiously. Carolyn drew her eyes away from Ben, playing up a very innocent, sweet face at Riley. He tried not to laugh.

"I wanted to know if you would mind if Ben could give me away?" she asked.

"But he's already my best man and-"

"I don't have anyone else to do it," Carolyn reasoned. Riley felt caught in the middle, babbling wordlessly until he was able to look at Ben and make words.

"You, you agreed to do it?"

"You can use me wherever you need me," he said, trying not to sound too rehearsed. "Whatever makes it go smoother for you guys."

"Please, Riley?" Carolyn asked. "He'll do it. He just said so. You can get Dillon or somebody to fill his spot, can't you?"

Feeling bombarded but wanting to make Carolyn happy, Riley began to nod with a shaky sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, if it's what makes you happy, then sure," he said, trying to keep his response bright as Carolyn beamed at him. "I'll give Dillon a call later. He'd love to do it."

Carolyn patted his chest with an effervescent smile, conveying to Ben with a fraction of a wink.

"Thanks, hon," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You're the best."

"I know," he said with a quirked eyebrow. "You don't have tell me."

She punched him lightly in the arm at his arrogance as they laughed. "Obviously not, Mr. Poole."

"You love me."

"Yeah, somehow," she giggled.

Ben stood sick with amusement. Riley was getting his turn to mildly agitate him with the pre-marital lovey-dovey banter. He stayed quiet at their consistent giggling, knowing he deserved as much as he and Abigail had annoyed Riley with it, but come on! They had to leave because he had more conniving to do…

"_Ahem_."

Riley and Carolyn looked up, their cheeks flushing with slight embarrassment.

"You, uh… wanna go make a last few checks on the cruise and stuff?" Riley asked her quietly. "Make sure nobody double-booked our beach house or whatever?"

"I'm already packing," she countered enthusiastically. "Barbados is in the middle of a hot spell right now, so it's going to be gorgeous."

"Let's hope it holds out another week and a half," he said, taking off the tuxedo jacket as the three of them went to leave the room.

"Riley!"

They turned at Ben's call, the historian pointing to a pile of clothes on the arm of the plush couch. "Don't forget your pants."

"Oh yeah. Guess I should get changed, huh?" Riley headed back into the room and Ben headed for the door with Carolyn casually. "Wait up for me outside, guys."

"We are," Carolyn said, shutting the door gently. She looked up at Ben. He seemed very approving of her performance.

"Well done," he told her as they moved away from the door.

"Thank you. So what now?"

"I've got almost everything for the wedding worked out, but I need you to come by tomorrow morning while Abigail and Riley go pick up the centerpieces and favors. I'm looking at the layouts of the bank and wanted second input."

"Second input on what? How to get in?"

"Bypassing, that sort of thing."

Carolyn blew out some air. "I can help you with some things, but Riley's far more experienced with that sort of stuff."

"He'll do what you can't," Ben said. "I just need to get as far as possible before then."

"All right," she said, not sure he was placing his trust in the most qualified person. "I'll be there after they leave, but I only have until four; I'm having my fitting then. Abigail and Sally are coming, so they'll be back by then. We also have to help set up the reception hall Thursday…"

"Yeah, that's right," Ben hissed, sounding pressed for time. Carolyn looked up.

"You're still coming?"

"No, I'll be there," he assured her quickly. "What kind of flowers did you get for the hall?"

"Jasmine, roses, and lilies," she said without hesitation. "And of course, a purple-pink theme as you can tell." She looked at his lavender vest under the jacket he wore knowing he was not one for purple, and he nodded with a smile to confirm it as usual. Still, the fine material made him look handsome even if the color didn't compliment him as nicely.

"You really do look good," she said, smoothing the wrinkles from the vest.

"Only if you say so," he obliged half-heartedly. Carolyn laughed.

"Come on, you can pull it off just fine," she said as he started to remove his bowtie. "Just don't think about it. At least it's not a deep royal violet."

"I'd never expect to be having this conversation with you after seeing you with a gun," Ben said honestly. "It's such a feminine topic for you."

"Every woman does this for her wedding, even if it's not necessarily going to happen," she said pointedly. Ben rolled his eyes, the comment directed right him appropriately.

"Okay, get it out now so I don't have to hear both you and Riley later," he smiled.

"Here what?"

Carolyn and Ben jumped guiltily, but it was only Charlie staring up at them with his suit balled up in his arms. They both looked horrified at the state of the suit, but Carolyn smiled for quick cover and took it from him, Ben helping to straighten it on the hangers.

"Nothing, honey," she said to Charlie. "Something for the grown-ups about the wedding."

"Yeah, you'll find out later, bud," Ben said. Carolyn gave him a look at choice of words, but it was the gentlest way he could put it. "You and Aunt Carolyn go pay for that suit, and Riley and I will see you out front."

"What now?" Riley asked, stepping out of the hall behind Ben.

"Oh," he said with start. "They're just… paying for that while we put these in for alterations. I'll go change real quick and-"

"Ben?"

"Huh?"

"Ben."

"What?"

Riley nodded at him respectfully with a sincere smile. "Thanks. For everything."

Ben's stomach dropped, but he didn't let it show on his face. He smiled in return.

"Take that to the counter and I'll meet you outside."

"Right."

**. Please Review .**


	6. Marriage Interrupted

**Woo! Another Friday up! Things are getting ever so busy by the week. Do you all realize that the Fourth of July is next Friday? And then the following Friday I got to the beach for a week (though I will hopefully be posting before I go)! Glad to see how much you all are into the story, and I'm crossing my fingers to see if I can get to the 100 review mark with this chapter. That would be fun. :D Also, during my entire first year of college that has just come to pass, I kept a daily log of everything that happened to me in the form of fiction called 'Bellamy 610' over at FictionPress (names have been changed for obvious reasons). I kept it because it would help with my writing and be something fun to look back on. While it is currently unfinished, I have the outline of everyday ready to be written. So, if you're curious to see how I lived life at college or just want a feel for it before you head there yourself, the link to 'Bellamy 610' is in my profile. _That was shameless promotion_. XD**

**Go on! Enjoy!**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Five .**

The snow fell heavily outside, ensuring Charlie and Sally would be delighted to see they'd have no school when they woke up. Ben turned the compass listlessly within the glowing radius of the library living room fireplace, watching the dying red-orange reflections shine over its aged face. He played out many, many scenarios in his head revolving around the next few days and their outcomes. Most of them concluded with losing Riley's trust forever, but he would beat the odds somehow. He always did. He had to.

He had been mulling over life without Riley since the day he had moved in. Now that time had finally come, and Ben was feeling just as he had predicted – empty, alone, selfish, reminiscent, and guilty. Guilty for this lie, this necessary lie he knew was going to put a deep rift in what they had developed into a reliable friendship.

_But what are you really missing?_ a part of him questioned. _Are you missing his convenience as a babysitter, a gullible do-gooder, a high-tech literate? Or are you missing him, the person, Riley Poole? Are the things you're missing the same things that make up Riley Poole?_

The selfish bit of him he'd learn to live with squeaked from the back of his head yes, but every other piece of him had tackled that selfishness as per usual and denied it. He missed Riley! He'd miss how he always seemed sleep-deprived, how he always captivated his kids, how he could be the world's worst pessimist but cheer you up if you needed it, how he never failed to be amazingly resourceful, how loyal he could be…

Was there a way to tell Riley now? Call him up and confess everything and still save their friendship?

_No_, he concluded matter-of-factly with a frown. The damage had already been done. It was time to see it through, hope for the bes-

Ben paused. Quirking an eye brow, he brought the compass close to his face. After all this time, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen what his eye had just befallen.

The pivoting pin that was supposed to run through the bearings, ring magnet, and suspensions was gone.

Then why did it still function normally?

Unless, it wasn't _supposed_ to function normally…

x x x

The heat must have been broken in the reception hall; the room was baking. The temperature held a steady reading of eighty-one degrees as they slaved away with hanging decorations and garnishing the tables all day. The florist informed Carolyn that unless the heat was lowered, all of her blooms would be wilted by morning. Maintenance promised to have it a cool seventy before midnight.

Dying for a gulp of air he hadn't repeatedly circulated through his body, Riley stepped outside onto the icy stone, a cooing Alex in his arms making him cautious of his footing. The boy was bundled warmly and wore a red and blue fleece hat snugly over his blonde baby hair. Riley smiled as Alex squealed in awe of the snow gently blowing at them.

"Yeah, everyone loves snow," Riley said. He leaned against the cold stone of the railing, readjusting the wide-eyed baby on his hip more. He bestowed another fond smile at his excited squeak, thinking back to Charlie and Sally's reactions to snow. Sally was as curious and entertained by the slow drifting flakes as Alex was, but Charlie never really fussed over them. He made a bigger deal out of watching rain bounce off the cement on a stormy day while his sister cried and cried and cried.

"Oo!"

Riley laughed. A thought came to him.

Would his own son like the snow or the rain? Would he play football or play Romeo? Would he be defiant or passive? Loyal and trustworthy or selfish and sneaky? Would he, Riley, be able to show him right from wrong? Guide him like a good father? Riley wasn't even sure he knew right from wrong himself half the time.

But when he had to tell a child, when he had to tell Charlie not to pull his sister's hair or Sally to remember her pleases and thank yous, he knew it made a difference as small as could be. But a difference nonetheless.

Riley could maybe be a decent parent, little by little.

"Hey, Abigail's looking for you."

Riley smiled as Carolyn came outside. She beamed at Alex and babbled with him as Riley passed him into her arms, a picturesque scene wrapped in snow before him.

"Oh, look at you," she said to Alex. "You cold out here, honey? Huh?"

"Well, a little," Riley admitted, standing closer to her. She gave him a sly smile while his remained innocent. He dug his hands in his pockets, and Carolyn kissed Alex's forehead. She glanced back over at Riley, catching him with a lopsided grin on his face. He immediately laughed guiltily.

"Aww, isn't he cute?" she prompted, swinging Alex closer to Riley so he had nowhere else to look. "Look at those eyes and that little toothless mouth…"

"He's adorable!" Riley said. He leaned into her with a sugary expression and whispered, "But it's _not_ gonna work."

Carolyn sighed. So much for trying. She slipped him another crafty smirk. "I know you want one."

"Yeeees," he said slowly, folding his hands behind his back as he rocked on his toes.

"Then why won't you talk about it?" Riley stopped, looking between Alex and Carolyn several times. Their faces were falling bare, the seriousness of the matter to blame. Riley spoke clearly.

"I'll get one," he assured her. "Very soon. As soon as possible. As soon as we hit that cruise ship and those islands, I will get one."

She laughed with him, but it was hollow. It was the greatest feeling in the world to know how ready he was to do this; to be with her, to have a family, to move on. But with the knowledge of what would take place tomorrow weighing her smile down to a frown, his outlook on life with her –or life in general – may very well be affected. There would be no cruise ship tomorrow. It made her heart break. She found herself holding Alex closer to comfort her own feelings of shame as snowflakes melted on her cheeks. Her breath hitched at Riley's touch.

"What? What's-?"

"Nothing, just cold," she said quickly, flashing him a smile. Alex gave another bright noise that broke their eye contact, and she was thankful for it. "Well, better get this little guy inside," she said. "Almost lunch time and it's cold out here!"

"Brrhhhrrr!"

"Yeah, brrrr!"

Riley laughed to himself, following her and Alex back inside with the happy prospect of hot soup soon to fill his stomach.

x x x

Midnight.

Ben watches the hands of his watch form a single line expectantly.

_One. Two. Three._

Abigail faintly hears the grandfather clock in the hall chime, and her heart quickens.

_Four. Five. Six._

Maddox looks at the radio as he, Priscilla, Harper, and Dom drive up the coast.

_Seven. Eight. Nine._

Riley's stomach twists as the glowing digits of his alarm clock change.

_Ten. Eleven._

Carolyn lay silent as the small clock on the wall gave a prim ring.

_Twelve._

Riley listened as the last chime hummed into the smallest interval until meshing with the black silence. He felt Carolyn move beside him a fraction of an inch, and he knew she was not asleep. They were both wide awake.

He stared at the clock, powerless to stop it.

"Today's the day."

x x x

Riley flew around the doorway, holding onto the frame as he screamed down the hall for Ben. Climbing the staircase to the second floor of the Estate's home, Ben twitched sensitively at his yell.

"What now, Riley?" He rounded the corner just as Riley slipped back into the room adjusting his bowtie. Ben tugged at his own absentmindedly and stepped into the bedroom. In front of the mirror, Riley was starting to fasten his cufflinks as his replacement best man and former roommate, Dillon, stood at the ready with Riley's jacket.

"What time is it?" Riley asked without looking over at Ben.

He checked his watch. "11:04."

Riley blew out all the air in his lungs nervously. Dillon passed the jacket to Riley with a smile. "Two hours, man. Just calm down. You've got plenty of time."

"Unfortunately, I don't…" Ben muttered to himself. There was still a lot to be done in such a short amount of time.

"What?"

Ben looked up sharply at their expectant faces. "Oh, uh, nothing important. I've just got to… I've got to get to the church and speak with the reverend about my lines again with Carolyn." Quick to excuse himself with a smile, he added, "Good thing I was never in a school play!"

Riley and Dillon went to the door immediately as Ben walked away.

"You did that last night at the rehearsal!" Riley said.

"I can't write the lines on my hand, Riley!" Ben called, already moving down the stairs again. Riley rolled his eyes, knowing he was lost to him now. Unbelievable.

"Find me at the church, then, will you?"

"Yeah!"

Riley sighed as the front door closed soundly. He felt the nagging feeling that he was abandoned and alone churning his stomach unfavorably, but he pushed it out of his mind knowing he was just experiencing pre-marital nerves. He felt very alone. No matter who was there to support him, he was still the one taking 'the big step' by himself.

"Come on," he said to Dillon, receding back into the bedroom. "Limo'll be here any second."

x x x

Maddox, dressed in his best tuxedo, dropped from the heating duct swatting cobwebs from his suit. He looked up into the dark square as beam of light darted across it.

"Toss it down, let's go," he urged. The flashlight fell into his hand, the batteries rattling within. He put it on a forgotten alter half-covered with a dusty sheet and communion dishes. Looking back, a pair of thin porcelain legs swung out of the darkness adorned with black heels. A series of uncomfortable grunts followed.

"Damn it, I'm snagged," Priscilla's voice came from above.

"Never mind it," Maddox said. "Hurry on! Time is wasting!"

"Shut up and wait a second," she snapped in reply. He listened impatiently as she freed he skirt from whatever had caught it and positioned herself for the drop. She came with a heave and an almost perfect landing, Maddox partially catching her.

"You alright?"

Yes, I'm fine," she said as he released her from his arms. Not a piece of hair had fallen at liberty from her tasteful coil to his amazement. She straightened her dress and looked up as a bag came falling into her arms unannounced. Harper came next in street clothes, flicking a spider from his shoulder.

"Ew! Couldn't we have made a better entrance- What?" Priscilla shoved the bag at him hard, picking up one Maddox had tossed down.

"Give me a warning next time, you idiot." The incisive tap of her shoes punctuated her frustration as she strode away. Harper erased whatever trace of longing was on his face a Maddox's wordless glare.

"What?" He immediately regretted asking such a stupid, obvious question. Harper stared at him blankly just in case he decided to punch him or something.

"Did you know in 1937 that the first of 48 'Dare Stones' was discovered 80 miles from Roanoke?"

Harper froze. Was Maddox just trying to freak him out? It was working.

"No…"

"The stones were believed to be a diary of Eleanor Dare who had given birth to the first English child in the New World named Virginia," Maddox said. "They chronicled what is said to be one of the fates of the colonists, leading them Roanoke down through the Carolinas and Georgia. There is constant doubting of their authenticity after an article was published in 1941, that this was a hoax based off a play written for the 350th anniversary of the colonists' disappearance. Now, I don't believe they are genuine. Do you know why?"

Harper remained still.

"Because in the matter of four years, all of these stones were found and since then, not one. If it was a hoax, no one was really focused on the quality of it, now were they? Too blindsided by the fame." The boy still did not seem to get what he was saying, so Maddox smiled. "I'd advise you to stay on task, Mr. Kacy. We are not going to be dismissed as those fools were."

Harper's eyes widened in understanding, the defensiveness for Priscilla clear on Maddox's face. Harper nodded furiously in agreement. "Absolutely, sir."

"Meet Dominic upstairs in five minutes and be ready in seven. Okay?"

"Will do." Without hesitation, Harper headed for the other end of the basement to find the stairs. Maddox promised himself he wouldn't wring the kid's neck, but it was a promise that was getting harder and harder to keep.

x x x

The white interior of the Holy Trinity Catholic Church was laden with the pink-purples of the flowers and decorum. Riley had but to silently admire how nice everything looked to realize that he was about to marry Carolyn and that nothing could possibly make him smile as happily as he was now. As Charlie and Sally came down the aisle holding a fine white pillow of silk and scattering flower petals about, he gave a chuckle at his family's reactions (minus his parents – they still hadn't arrived yet). A few of the people he did not recognize, but then again, that was common. He'd meet them at the reception. Then, once the twins made it to the bottom of the aisle, Riley tensed. It was time.

At the back of the church, Ben stood tall and exchanged glances with the lovely woman in white beside him.

"Are you ready?"

She met his eye absolutely. "Yes."

"Good," he said as The Wedding March began to play. "Because here we go."

The congregation stood at the song's unmistakable meaning and turned. Riley reserved every ounce of energy within him not to crane his neck or stand on his tiptoes as Dillon smiled at his excitement. Ben guided her down the aisle fluidly, Riley knowing that beneath that exquisite veil was his bride.

x x x

"Man, what are you doing?" Harper asked, trudging into the uppermost room of the church where a series of long, thick ropes hung from the ceiling. Dominic looked up from a small table, shooshing him immediately.

"Quiet, dude, there's a crazy echo up here."

"Exactly!" Harper said, sitting on a crooked pew and opening his laptop. "The bell tower? Come on, Dom. I hardly get reception up here."

"It was the only place!"

"Look, moron, people ring the bells during the ceremony."

Dominic shifted his eyes with a pang of nausea. "I thought they only did it at the end? Once they were hitched? And we're not even going to get to that part-"

"Shh!"

"What, I'm sorry, I-"

"Just… shut up a second," Harper said, poised and listening. Dominic became alert as well, looking up at the ceiling where the ropes disappeared. Harper pointed over to the ladder in the corner and an open wooden hatch leading to the bells. "I heard something up there."

"I'm telling you: rats," Dominic said as Harper got up and went over to it. Dominic bit his lip. "Dude, we have no time for this! Maddox is waiting!"

"So set up," Harper said, climbing the ladder. "I'm just a wussy weather guy, remember? OW!"

Dominic jumped back as Harper fell back to the floor clutching his nose, surprisingly on his feet.

"Whoa, man, you- HEL-lo!"

A woman dropped out of the ceiling before them with a gun, Harper's blood on her shoe staining the beige carpet. They backed up into the ropes in fear.

"Whoa, lady! We don't want trouble!"

"Who are you?"

"Where's Maddox?" She loaded the gun, the _click_ causing them to start. "Tell me now."

"Uhh… I don't know," Dominic said shakily. "Honest to god."

The gun moved to Harper. "He's uh… downstairs somewhere. In the basement last I saw."

Without a word, she pushed through the ropes towards the stairs. Dominic looked at Harper incredulously.

"You told her where he was?!"

"I don't feel like getting shot!"

"Forget her, Maddox is going to shoot you!"

"Big difference," Harper snorted. "Dead is dead. Doesn't matter."

Dominic looked back at the woman, determined not to let her get to his friend. He ran up behind her and pulled her back into the room. He took the gun but got a swift kick to the stomach. Harper, just annoyed that this was happening, swung one of the loose ropes around her ankles and tripped her, but she wasn't giving up. She gave him a hard kick in the leg and continued to fight back.

x x x

Riley's chest swelled with pride as Ben and Carolyn finally reached the front of the church. His heart was pounding, and he loved the thrilling sweep it gave him. He tried his best to make eye contact with her through the veil, but that's when he noticed - -

Carolyn's hair was more golden blonde than the melted butter color he had classically classified it as. She was slightly shorter in comparison to Ben than normal, _and_ she was wearing heals. He felt his stomach drop, telling himself it was just the lighting, but then he caught a glimpse of the face. He felt as if he had to learn to breathe again.

That wasn't… She…

"Abigail," he whispered as his fear and anger fought for dominance in his face. From behind the veil, she cast him a strained look that pleaded for him to remain silent, but he couldn't! Where was Carolyn and why were they hiding her from him?!

"Stop, stop," Riley said, marching forward as the congregation gasped. The minister stared on with the wedding party as Riley walked up and grabbed the veil to throw back. Ben put a restraining hand on his wrist warningly.

"Riley-"

"Let go, Ben."

Ben laughed up to the minister. "He's just raring to go, aren't you, Riley?"

Riley ripped the veil away and glared furiously at Abigail, ignoring the shock of everyone around him entirely. Ben turned around quickly scanning the crowd, and someone from the very back stood, pulling a revolver out of his jacket silently.

"Riley, move!"

"Shut up!" Riley stepped back from them slowly, clutching his head at the sudden rage and emotions ransacking him. Ben was sure he had never seen Riley so angry, but over his shoulder, that was the least of his problems.

"Where's Carolyn?!" Riley demanded loudly. "Where is she?!"

_DONGGGG_

The congregation gasped, looking up above them as several more bells began to ring out of sync. Ben pulled Riley back by the jacket when he tried to run forward.

"Riley, don't!"

"Get off of me!"

Then, a gunshot rang out, sending the sanctuary into hysteria. The families and friends in the pews flew to the ground in opposition to six or seven people that rose up from amongst them with more guns. Riley stared in disbelief as the bells above them continued to ring loud and true.

"See what I mean?" Ben said. The people wielding guns all seemed to turned on them collectively. "Get down!" Ben, Abigail, and Riley fell to the floor and rolled against the front pew, taking risky glances at the shooters behind them.

"Go get the kids!" Ben said to Abigail. "Meet us outside!"

In the bell tower, Carolyn jumped on two ropes above Harper and Dominic and pulled down, kicking them hard in the chest. The grand bells gave a deep, mighty ring just above their heads. She jumped on another and swung towards the stairs when the two men were slow to get up, picked up her gun, and headed downstairs to find who she was really after.

Harper staggered to his feet dabbing his bleeding nose. Dominic panted from the floor on his back.

"Smooth move," Harper said, closing up his equipment immediately.

"Maddox… is gonna… kill you…"

"At least I expect it from him!" Harper said. "Get your stuff and let's go! Where's the van?"

Downstairs, Riley was vaguely aware that the bells had stopped ringing. The shooters were now making their way to the aisle so they could have a straight run to them.

"Riley, there's a side door to the acolyte room in the left arch!" Ben shouted as the gunfire got louder, closer. "Run for it!"

However, Riley could only stare in disbelief at him. He knew why it was happening. All of it. The world had officially slipped out from under him.

"You didn't send him the compass."

It was a statement, not an accusation. Ben was ready to say that Riley had seen him mail it or dash it to the side, but his hesitation made Riley's eyes grow more, confirming the very suspicions he was hoping were wrong. He would've liked to think it just got lost in the mail, but a sudden stab of betrayal seized him, and he knew he was right. For once, being right did not constitute all the glorious gloating he was rarely able to bask in.

Instead, he stared at this man beside him, this lying stranger he once knew as a good, honest friend. His mind was blank, erased; he didn't know anything.

"Riley, go!" this deceiving face said to him. "RUN!"

Riley gave a small laugh, somehow finding it all ironic. It went as quickly as it had come, though. Ben looked at him desperately to get out, but Riley's face turned dark.

"Riley-"

"You're as hopped up on greed as Ian was."

Ben blinked at the comment. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you're intelligent enough to figure it out, Puzzle Boy." Riley gave him a curt smile and hard slap on the shoulder. "Goodbye, Ben."

"N- Wait! Riley!"

Riley got up as three of the gunmen (well, two gunmen, one gunwoman) came at him down the aisle shooting. He ducked to dodge them, but then he failed to even notice them when he saw Carolyn racing from one end of the rear sanctuary to the other.

"CAROLYN!!"

She stopped, looking right at him.

"Carolyn! Carolyn, go!"

She started to run for him but was grabbed from behind. Riley panicked, recognizing the face as none other than Maddox Whittacre from the countless news stories on television and magazine covers. 

Reality kept hitting him in waves, the next always harder than the previous. Maddox was really there to get the compass as promised.

Ben was suddenly at Riley's side with a gun pointed at the oncoming gunslingers, and, finding the trigger, he shot at the woman in a black dress who was closest to them and missed. Riley did a double take, wondering where Ben had gotten a gun (and the bravery to shoot someone with it). He looked back up as Whittacre dragged Carolyn out of the North entrance of the church.

He began running up the aisle, oblivious to the bullets whizzing around him. "Carolyn!"

"Riley! Stop!" Ben shouted. He watched helplessly as the woman shooter pointed the gun at his unsuspecting friend. Ben was too far away to push him out of the way, and he wasn't about to shoot someone, but seeing as he was already relying on a snowball's chance in hell that Riley would forgive him…

His face twisted with reluctance and pain, Ben took a deep breath, raised his hand as steadily as he could, and fired. His aim was good enough; his bullet hit Riley before the woman's could. Riley fell to the ground as a hot sting tore through his shoulder just as the woman shot at his head. A near miss.

Priscilla looked up at Ben and fired without warning, but he crouched, kicking her legs out from underneath her. Ben clambered to his feet, picking up Riley's dead weight as he fought his way to the exit.

On the side stairs of the large white stone church, Maddox threw Carolyn against a pillar and tried to pin her. She punched him in the neck, and it gave her enough release to reach for the gun tucked into the back of her pants. She tried to shoot it, but the safety was still on. The delay cost her, and Maddox struck her across the face.

"I warned you I'd come," he said, shoving her back into the pillar hard. He squeezed a pressure point on her wrist until her gun fell to the stone with a clatter. "I want my compass."

"That doesn't mean you're getting it." She struggled another moment and then kicked his knee backward. He stumbled back with a scream and gripped his throbbing kneecap as she fled back inside.

As she entered, all of the people started to push past her to get out. She fought her way against their current, trying to get to Ben and her motionless fiancé. One of Maddox's men appeared out of thin air in front of her, and she ducked out of the way of his large swiping hand. Free of the group, Carolyn ran up behind the last of the men in the aisle and hit his temple with her gun. Ben looked up appreciatively.

"Thank you."

"What happened to him?!" Carolyn asked fearfully, lifting Riley's dormant face in her hands. "Ben! He-!"

"He's fine. We got to get out of here! Now!"

"But Ben, he's been shot!" Carolyn retorted as he headed for the main entrance of the church. Ben's stomach turned with responsibility, causing him to look slightly ill.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "But he's fine! Hurry up, move!"

x x x

"Oh, are you _sure_ this is the right church?" a woman wrapped in a faux fur coat and hat asked as she shut her car door. "This is the fifth one you've brought us to!"

"Well, the invitation could have been a little more specific," her husband said, stepping up beside her with the white card in hand. She glanced at it with him.

"It says 'Holy Trinity Catholic,' so this must be it."

"It's D.C., honey," he reminded her. "There's hundreds of churches. He could've done something nice, like sent a picture with the invitation or put it in this big blank space up here so there'd be no mistaking it."

"Well it must be the right one, look!" she said happily, pointing to the entrance as Carolyn and Ben exited carrying Riley. Her husband squinted.

"Who is that?"

"It's Ben! Ben Gates! The Ben that Riley discovered the treasures with!" Riley's mother said excitedly. "Oh, he must be the best man! Ben!"

From the stairs, Ben and Carolyn looked up. Ben made a face. "Who… is that?"

"Oh god, it's Riley's parents," Carolyn said, stepping closer to Ben to help conceal Riley although it was hopeless to even try. Ben looked at her quickly.

"What? Riley's parent's are just _now_ getting here?"

Carolyn ignored him and smiled uneasily at her soon-to-be in-laws as they approached the stairs enthusiastically. Ben tried to look around the pillars. Where was Abigail?!

"Oh, sweetheart, look!" Riley's mother said to her husband. "Ben, you look dashing, and… Carolyn? Where on earth is your wedding dress, dear?"

"Um, funny story," Carolyn said, looking over at the sound of a lively engine.

Finally, Abigail wheeled the limousine around the corner and came to an abrupt stop. Ben wasted no time in running down the stairs with Riley tucked under his arm. Riley's parents looked on skeptically.

"And where is Ben taking my son? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, I promise," Carolyn said, following Ben down to the car. Riley's parents mouthed wordlessly as she opened the car door. "The wedding's been postponed! We'll send you another invitation!"

At that, Carolyn got in the car, and the tires spun noisily as Abigail pulled out.

"Put a picture in the next one!" Riley's father shouted in vain, earning a reprimanding look from his wife. He shrugged. "What?"

"You should've just used the GPS," she said, heading back to the car.

"I don't know _how_ to use the GPS!"

x x x

"Damn it!"

Priscilla threw her gun off the side of the van, causing its two front seat occupants to cringe. Dominic rolled down the window timidly as Maddox walked around from loading the back of the van, picked up Priscilla's gun, and handed it to her.

"You dropped this."

She took it impatiently, tossing it into the van lazily.

"We tried to stop her," Dominic said. From the driver's seat, Harper wiped his slowing nosebleed once more.

"Yeah, like it did anything."

"Exactly," Maddox said, slamming the back door loudly. "It didn't do a _thing_, and I am still without Miss Howe's assistance to get me that compass!"

"But they have it with them!" Harper said. "Dom and I have been tracing their security access all week! Carolyn Howe took it and you files from the Estate and brought it to Gates."

"And he's had it with him ever since," Dominic said as Maddox and Priscilla listened carefully.

"I doubt he carries it on his person," Maddox said. "It's too bulky. He must keep it somewhere in his home."

Dominic pointed at him with a smile. "Yes. He's got some form of uncoded and unlabeled security in the upper floor of his manor that had a lot of activity this last week. We think he's been keeping the compass and file there."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Priscilla said, just short of barking. "We could've just broken in!"

"Absolutely not, I'm a man of my word," Maddox said to appease her. "I told her I'd come to her wedding in person if I didn't get it, and I came." He looked at them collectively. "Now if they don't have the compass and file, they'll be going back to that house for them. We're going to have them before they do, but we have to move now. Harper, get in back. I'm driving."

"So we're just going to do a break-in?" Harper asked.

Maddox smiled. "Kiddie stuff, I know. But we'll try to have a little more fun with it."

**. Please Review .**


	7. Banking on Hope

**Hey guys. I would like to apologize for no update last week. I intended on it even with the Fourth of July, but then someone hacked my Facebook account and told everyone I had died, and I had to clear that up over four days. Plus, all that stress gave me crazy writer's block for this, so I waited to finish it ad decided to post this week instead. Also, I'm not sure if there will be a post next Friday - I am leaving tonight for Topsail Island in North Carolina until next Saturday, so I don't know how much writing I'll get to. I want to update next week, but I can't promise anything since it's vacation. Thanks for your patience and understanding, too; that means a lot. Here's the next installment, and I hope you like it! And I know you're all on me about Ben shooting Riley, but just keep reading! It's a spoonful of angst and it's good for you! XD**

. Anonymous Reviewers .

x) Jenn - I'm happy to hear you're enjoying it so far, and I'm glad it reads like the movies! That's what I'm going for! Thanks for the review and keep reading! :)

x) Allie - Ben shot Riley to save him from Priscilla's shot to the head, even though I know it came off a little awkward in writing. It's addressed in the chapter below, so hopefully it will be cleared up for you there. Glad you liked it and Riley's parents! Thanks for reviewing! :)

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Six .**

"Myers! Hello!" Maddox said over the phone, his cheeriness clip.

"What is it, Whittacre?"

"Well the traffic is terribly slow at the moment, but I have bigger concerns," he said as the cars around him inched forward slowly. "Howe and Gates got away from the wedding. I think they're going to the manor to get the compass. Get there and detain them until I arrive."

"So the compass is in the manor now," Myers said slowly. "Just like I told you. She got it to him."

"Least of our concerns. Dominic and Harper found their secret hiding place," Maddox explained as Priscilla leaned in between the seats from the back and fought with Dominic to change the radio station. "Just don't let them in that house before me. Arrest them or something while we search the house."

Myers sighed. "All right. You better be right, Maddox. The FBI has a love-hate relationship with Gates, so they might decide to let him off."

"You're the FBI, and right now you hate him," Maddox said firmly. "Do not let them in that house. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

x x x

"Abigail, stop! Stop the car!" Ben said quickly over Charlie's constant questions, Sally's blubbering, and Alex's crying. Abigail pulled around the corner and stopped immediately as Carolyn knelt over Riley on the seat worriedly, stuffing her coat under his bleeding shoulder further.

"Daddy? What's wrong with Uncle Riley?" Sally asked through her choppy sobs. "Why won't he wake up?"

"Uncle Riley's fine, sweetie, he's just a little hurt," Ben said, lifting Riley's eyelids as Carolyn patted him down for broken bones. He grimaced. Riley's pupils were of two different sizes. "He's suffered head trauma."

Carolyn leapt forward. "What?"

"Look," Ben said, turning on the overhead light in the limousine. "His pupils aren't the same."

"Ben, what if he's seriously hurt?" Abigail asked, crawling into the back seat and giving Alex his pacifier. The baby spit it right back out and continued crying, but on her second try, Abigail had success in keeping him quiet. "What if he has a concussion? Or worse?"

"I sh- He was shot, Abigail." He corrected himself for his kids' sake; how could they live with their father knowing he was responsible for putting Riley in this condition? He brushed it aside and kept talking before his mind could be overrun with thought. "He might have a concussion at best."

"How would he have a concussion?" Carolyn asked, adjusting the coat under his shoulder again.

"Well… I wasn't paying too much attention to him on the way out," Ben said with a sigh as Sally came over and hugged him. He absentmindedly squeezed her with one arm, looking from Riley to the window. "Either way, he needs medical care now… And that looks good."

Carolyn and Abigail followed Ben's line of sight to an ambulance flying around the corner towards the hospital a block away. They looked over at Ben's face that had already made its final decision in the matter, and Carolyn was quick to jump into the front seat.

"Plan?"

Ben shrugged. "Not really. Working on it." Abigail gripped the door handle as Carolyn pulled out into the street.

"Is there _ever_ a plan?"

x x x

Upon his arrival at the Gates Manor, Maddox saw six police cars, an overabundance of agents, and Joseph Myers standing at the open front door with his hands in his pockets. A few more people ran into the house with their guns at the ready. Maddox stopped the car in confusion and got out, Myers approaching with his hands now behind his back.

"Where's Gates?" Maddox asked immediately as Priscilla, Harper, and Dominic came up beside him. Myers sighed, looking back at the house.

"Not here yet. But we took the liberty of performing a search."

"Find anything?"

"Seventeen men are sweeping the place now," Myers said, walking them towards the great brick house. He turned to Dominic. "You said the security activity was hot on the second floor, correct?"

"Yeah," Dominic said, hurrying to Myers's side. "Gates has a study in the northwest corner. That's where we picked up most of the action. It was a very confined space, too. Probably just big enough to fit the stuff in it."

"A small safe, then?" Maddox asked.

"I'd say so. The way it's arranged in the layout of the house, you're either going to find it in some sort of desk or cabinet. Right out in the open."

"Don't make it sound so easy," Priscilla said as they entered the house and looked around. "Benjamin Gates has many ways of protecting his things without high security."

"Yeah," Harper said boredly. "He probably has a sand pit or a giant boulder just waiting to roll down that staircase." Priscilla threw him a look, and he got defensive. "What? I'm being entirely serious."

"That's what's bothering me," she said, following the others upstairs.

x x x

Riley screamed himself out of unconsciousness as a piece of duct tape was ripped from his mouth. The harsh sting made tears spring from behind his tightly shut eyelids. They squinted open fearfully however when a large gloved hand fell over his mouth to silence him.

"Shh!" the voice that belonged to the hand urged.

Between the pain that made his head dizzy with a heavy sinking sensation and the bright lighting, Riley could hardly make out his captor's blurry silhouette. That didn't mean he didn't know him.

As his memory pushed itself back into his cluttered mind and a horrendous pain tortured his body, Riley screamed against the hand and hit it away successfully, filling his lungs with fresh air as painful as it was for his back.

"Ooo, don't you tell me what to do," Riley snapped through gritted teeth, blinking repeatedly while maintaining a viable scorn. "You are in no position!"

To the left of Riley and the gurney he lay on, Ben removed a wrap of duct tape from around Riley's wrists before getting something from a small cabinet on the side of the wall.

"No, _you_ are in no position," Ben said. He turned around, taking another swatch of tape from around his ankles.

Riley stared at him. "What's with the duct tape, Ben?" he snided. "Did you kidnap me from my own wedding?"

"That's precisely what I've done," Ben said as if there were no strings attached. He met his eye seriously, but his tone was that of sing-song. "You are my hostage and you are staying with me, so don't think you're going anywhere other than by my side."

Then, amidst their eye contact, Ben handcuffed Riley's left wrist to the metal bar of the gurney and turned back to the cabinet. Riley stared at the handcuffs the best he could while lying down.

"Are you serious?!"

Ben turned around again. "Don't make me put duct tape over your mouth again."

Riley felt the ground beneath them speeding and realized he was in an ambulance, no paramedics or EMTs in sight. Just his absurd entourage and their fearless, committed leader. Somehow, he wasn't surprised after what he had just been through.

From the right, Carolyn came into view, gently tucking her hand under his back as they hit a hard bump. Riley screamed again, pain jarring through his left shoulder and reducing his cry to a whimper. Carolyn touched his face sympathetically as he fought off the rest of burning agony and lay back in exhaustion. Carolyn felt her breath catch and cradled his tired head a moment. She had done this to him. She didn't blame him for any animosity he would surely hold against her because she knew she could only deserve it.

"Riley, you have to sit up," she coaxed, recollecting herself in a steady tone. He winced in protest, Ben helping her to get him up on his elbows. Riley gave him a dangerous glare as he let go.

"I don't need your help," he murmured darkly. Ben glanced at Carolyn calmly before stepping back and going through the cabinet again, and she moved her hand to his lower back for support. "Riley, come on." The thick, low line of his brow shadowed his eyes as they shifted to her slowly, penetrating her defenses. She sighed shakily, putting pressure on his back again. "Come on. You have to."

Riley would have retorted smartly if it weren't for the unbearable pain ripping through his body. Unwillingly ready to accept their help, Riley swallowed his pride and sat up with the hindrance of a few more deep screams from his lungs. He hunched over with beads of sweat rolling down the side of his face, so near to fatigued tears that his throat hurt. When he looked up, Sally, still in her lacy lavender dress, handed him a wad of brown paper towels.

"Are you hurt bad, Uncle Riley?" she asked as he pushed his face into the towels. "Is it bad?"

For the love of god, he had no reason to be mad at Sally, even if she was Ben's offspring. He tried to pan out the grimace on his face. "Yeah. It's pretty bad, but I'll be fine," he told her. He wished someone (with a doctoral degree in medicine) would tell him the same.

Sally still looked worried. "Does it hurt?" she asked timidly. "Huh?"

"Yes, it hurts a lot," Riley said quickly, feeling a stream of water rinse out the bullet hole. He quirked oddly by some nerve, gripping the edge of the gurney tighter and tighter. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW! Cold!" he bellowed as Ben put a compress on the wound. Sally backed up as Riley frantically swatted it away. "Ow, get it off! I don't want any more of your help!"

"Dad, why is Uncle Riley mad at you?" Charlie asked as he came around to be with his sister.

"Uncle Riley's not mad at me," Ben said. He knew without looking Riley was shooting daggers at him. He could feel it, but continued to say, "He's just mad at the mean people that came to the wedding. You two come back here while we fix him up. I might need your help."

The twins obeyed, Sally patting Riley on the knee as she passed. "You'll feel much better soon."

Riley glared over at Ben. "I hope so." He leaned away as Ben approached again with the compress. "I told you that I don't need your help!"

"Stop it. You do to," Ben said, applying the compress with a more care. Riley hissed in objection, eyes squeezed shut so tight he thought his head might explode.

"Oh, Ben," he panted, his face twisting constantly between torment and hostility. "I am going to kill you," he said as Carolyn removed his bowtie and undid a few buttons on his shirt.

"No you're not," Ben replied dismissively. It only made Riley more irate. Ben reconsidered the comment briefly. "Alright. So you might come close," he agreed, picking up a pair of clean tweezers and handing them to Carolyn.

"No, I am," Riley stated absolutely. "I am going t- Oooow! Stop, stop, stop!"

"I have to get it out, Riley," Carolyn said impatiently from behind him. "Hold still."

He made a face. "You _have _to fish for a bullet with a pair of tweezers while I'm conscious? Unanestheticized?"

"Is that even a word?"

"Who cares- THAT'S A MUSCLE!!"

"I'm sorry!" Carolyn shouted as he tensed his back. She touched his uninjured shoulder to relax him once more into a slump, trying to be as gentle as their current environment allowed. "Just stop moving."

Riley fought off the urge to say something along the lines of if he had been shot and killed, he wouldn't be moving. But he wasn't going to say something like that right now. Carolyn was a victim as much as he was in Ben's developing dictatorship, and the kids were right behind him somewhere. He rethought it quietly until Ben dabbing the oozing hole made him bite into his lip hard to stifle a yell.

"I can't get it," he heard Carolyn say, withdrawing the tweezers from his shoulder.

"Here, let me try."

"No!" Riley said immediately. "I don't want you to!"

"Unless you're able to get it out yourself, I'm doing it," Ben said challengingly. Riley turned his head away, angry that he had to settle with his inarguable logic once again.

"Oh ho… oh god!" Riley caught his breath and forced himself not to scream aloud as they continued to operate amaturely on his shoulder. Then, the tweezers poked at him hard, and he groaned deeply. "Ooooo! Ben!"

"Sorry."

Riley huffed sardonically. "Sorry?"

"Yeah, it was an apology," Ben said agitatedly. "I didn't mean to hurt your shoulder."

"Psh. How about apologizing for ruining my wedding, Ben? Huh?" Since you seem to have a good understanding of the definition!" Riley's voice rose expectantly. "Why don't you apologize for _lying _to me about sending Maddox Whittacre his compass because all you care about is treasure?!"

"Because those things-"

"Ah HAAAAAH!! OW!"

"- I meant to do."

He reached around Riley and showed him the retrieved bullet between the blades of the tweezers. Riley looked away coldly.

"Backstabber."

"Technically, I shot you," Ben corrected, no longer feeling the need to care. Thankfully, Charlie and Sally weren't paying attention as they plastered band-aids on one another, but Riley stared at him, not sure how much more anger he could feel towards the man in front of him.

"_You_ shot me?" Riley asked disbelievingly.

Ben now felt underestimated and annoyed. "Yeah. I shot you," he repeated for effect. "And it saved your life-"

"I was in a coma five minutes ago because of you!"

"It wasn't a coma. You were unconscious," Carolyn said, dispelling his exaggeration as she held a towel to his shoulder. "And if Ben _hadn't_ interceded, you would be dead."

"And better off…"

Carolyn stared at him incredulously, but he was working hard not to meet her eyes. He was secretly ashamed at how honest it had come off.

"Is that right?" Carolyn asked heatedly. Riley looked right at her.

"Right now, I would prefer it to this."

"I helped in all this, you know! I helped plan it, execute it, lay it out-"

"Because Ben asked you to," Riley interrupted, throwing the man with his blood on his hands a spiteful glare. "He asked you to. Said 'pretty please.' Made you believe there was something in it for you. Something great." Riley wiped his nose on his sleeve, adhering to another wince before looking back over at Ben.

"Well, there isn't," Riley said quietly. His tone then acquired disappointment he never thought he would feel towards Ben. "I made the same mistake before."

Ben was careful to laugh. "You wanted to come. You practically sprang out of your chair at the chance!"

"Yeah, and now look at me!" Riley yelled back. "Rich, kidnapped, shot, and – _still! _– not married. And yes! As it would turn out, I can blame each and every one of these things on _you_."

"Do you want to keep this?" Ben asked boredly, still holding up the bloody bullet in the tweezers. To both his and Carolyn's surprise, Riley slapped it right out of his hand and to the floor, punctuating his action with a hard stare.

"No," he said lowly. "I don't want to keep it. _I_ want to see a legitimate doctor and get as far away from you as possible before you get me killed."

"Sorry," Ben said, taking off his gloves, "but that's not on our itinerary."

"Nothing ever _is_ when it concerns something less in value than Smaug's hoard of gold in the Lonely Mountain…"

"On the contrary," Ben said as he helped Carolyn unravel a bandage for Riley's shoulder. "Carolyn only knows so much when it comes to getting in the place." He continued despite Riley hanging his head. "So she's going to run the show while you help us bypass and access the security wall-"

"No… Ben…"

"-and then get us through to the mainframe of the vault systems-"

"Ben-"

"-so I can get in and out of my mom's account as soon as possible."

Riley couldn't believe what he was hearing. Kill the wedding to go rob a bank for an inherited compass that probably isn't even a compass because _Ben Gates_, treasure hunter _extraordinaire_, has a hunch that it's connected to a different compass that isn't even his. Oh, how Riley wanted to backhand him. Even if he didn't necessarily have the courage to do it. A sensation within him told him that he could do it eventually if he really wanted to.

"Riley, I wouldn't have done what I did if I didn't have to," Ben tried gently. "I really need-"

"That's the thing, Ben!" Riley laughed. "You didn't have to do this! At all! I'm not helping you. I told you I wasn't going to. Especially now that you've lied to me about a _compass_ and thought it was okay to sacrifice my wedding for this stupid pursuit of what? Pennies. Pennies compared to what you've already found. And I'm supposed to _forgive_ you? Well newsflash, Ben: I'm not. And I never will. I'm not lifting one finger to type a single keystroke for you, and that's it."

Ben stared at him a moment as the anger he had been controlling thus far flared within him. Carolyn looked between them cautiously, but Ben took a step closer to Riley, the frustration evident on his face.

"Well newsflash, Riley: I kidnapped you, and you're going to do as I say."

Riley snorted. "You carried me off when I was unconscious."

"I'd prefer not to shoot you in the other shoulder."

"Ha… Like you would…"

"Hey!"

"Whoa!"

Ben picked up the gun from the little metal counter and pressed it into Riley's right shoulder blade tightly. Carolyn's demands for him to put it down and the children's growing cries were ignored entirely; both men battled a strong, silent argument with their eyes.

"You won't shoot me."

"I did it once."

"You won't do it again," Riley practically taunted. Ben snarled, something clicking in his mind – and against Riley's shoulder.

"Try me," he uttered, shocking himself.

"You already said you needed my help, Ben," Riley said nonchalantly. "Why would _you_ do something _so_ unforgiveable?"

Ben gripped Riley's shirt angrily, part of him certain he might actually do it, but Carolyn then intervened; she hit Ben's arm with her fist, the gun falling into her hand as he recoiled. She unloaded it and threw the gun on the ground, glancing between the two of them with the most contorted face of the three of them. Charlie and Sally started crawling up front to be with their mother and brother, leaving only thick tension to hang in the air.

"Listen," she hissed as Ben let go of Riley, "in case you forgot, _I'm_ in charge of this. You can't pull a gun on your friend and expect him to still call you his friend in return."

Ben took another step back, keeping his eye on Riley as he soaked a cotton ball with peroxide. Riley felt Carolyn smooth the back of his shirt as she walked around to the front of him. She smiled slightly but did not get one in return.

"Riley, you know why he's doing this," she said as Riley cringed from Ben cleaning and bandaging his shoulder. "You were there when we looked at all this for the first time. This isn't just to figure out what Ben's mother wanted him to do. We're involved. Maddox came to Ian, and now this is my responsibility to resolve."

"How hard was it just to mail the thing?" Riley wanted to know. "Just sending it packing and wave! 'Goodbye, Compass of Unnecessary Involvement!'" he said with a false, cheery smile. "See? That easy. But no! We have to hack into a Swiss Bank account-"

In the time he was rambling, Carolyn sighed and picked up the gun, reloaded it, and held it to his shoulder as Ben had. Riley stopped, looking over his shoulder at her the best he could.

"Yeah, that's real mature," he said.

"Let's go, Riley. We brought your computer."

Riley hopped off the table after Ben released the handcuff from the gurney. Carolyn began to walk him out into the snow. "You know, I would've expected this from you when I first met you."

"Watch the ice."

"Are you just going to pull out a gun every time I disagree with something?"

"Maybe. It gets results."

"Oh, I feel _so_ much more confident about marriage commitment now."

"That's the least of your problems right now," Ben said, walking around from the front of the ambulance with Charlie and cuffing a leather bag to Riley's wrist. He looked past Riley's outraged expression to Carolyn.

"Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes," she said. "I'll take him to security and be right there."

Ben nodded, and she led Riley away to a different entrance of the building.

"So you're running this whole break-in?" he asked. "You can do that?"

Carolyn straightened her posture with authority behind him, putting herself back in a mindset she hadn't been in since getting Ian out of prison. A smile curved her lips.

"You're forgetting whose sister I am."

x x x

"It's not here," Maddox said lowly, bracing himself against the desk in the study. Priscilla and Harper walked up to him, the young meteorologist double-checking some papers on the corner of the desk.

"Maybe you missed it-"

"It's not here!" he now shouted. Harper stared at him, carefully setting the papers back down. Maddox hung his head. "They have it now, wherever they ran off to." He looked up at Priscilla. "And we need it back."

"Do you want Myers to put them on a national high alert Most Wanted list?" she offered. He shook his head.

"No, not yet anyway. I want to speak with Gates first, see if we can't settle this like gentlemen."

Priscilla's shoulders fell. "I doubt he'll pick up."

"I'll find him," Maddox assured, pushing off the desk. He brightened his tone suddenly. "Well! Clear out the house! We're done here!" He turned back to Priscilla and Harper with a smile. "Time for the fun part."

x x x

Abigail walked into the lobby of the bank on tiptoes with her family, Carolyn's one-size-too-big heels in her hands to prevent nerve-racking _clicks_. She looked around at the attempt to cover the historical architecture with modern banking paraphernalia as Ben opened another security alarm and froze the sensors with a can of chewing gum remover. He shook the can afterwards, found it empty, and pocketed it. In him arms, Alex made a sound of surprise.

"This isn't Riggs Bank," he heard Abigail say as he walked up to her and the twins. She pointed to the signs hanging around the lobby. "PNC owns this bank. Is there another Riggs?"

"PNC bought Riggs National in 2004," Ben explained, pulling out his mother's banking information. "Can you hold this?" He handed his young son the folder, smiling when he took it with great interest. He leaned over to Abigail and showed her the main summary of the account. "See the date in the corner when the account was opened and last accessed? October 1971. It was still Riggs Bank when she brought the compass here."

Abigail nodded, looking up at the shadowed walls and ceiling. "This bank's gold helped us purchase Alaska. And funded the Morse telegraph."

"Not to mention over half the presidents have had accounts here," Ben said, walking up to another alarm and freezing it with another can of gum remover. "It also gave Perry money for his first trip to the North Pole."

"All right, guys, I'm here."

Carolyn walked up to them from out of the darkness, handing Abigail a small Bluetooth earpiece. "Riley's setting them up now," she said, fixating one in Ben's ear for him. "There are small cameras on the ends of them so he can see exactly where we are, too, and not have to toggle with the main cameras so much to see."

"Sounds high-tech enough for him," Ben said, tapping the earpiece.

"Hey, hey!" Sally said, running up to Carolyn. "Do we get one?"

"Yeah," Charlie whined. "I want one, too! I want to talk to Uncle Riley!"

"I have a much more important job for you," Carolyn said, crouching down to their now eager faces. "I want you to locate the lollipop stash and put as many as you can in your backpacks for being so good tonight. Think of it as your reward."

"Cool!"

"But you only get to keep them if you stay quiet and unseen," Carolyn said. "Once you find the lollipops, stay there until we find you. Understand?"

"Yeah!" Charlie said excitedly, running off with his sister.

Carolyn stood up smiling, and Abigail glanced at her. "Where are the lollipops?"

"In a storage room I unlocked on my way," Carolyn said, opening the first 'employees only' door she saw. "Riley has an eye on them. They're fine," she told them. "Come on. This way."

x x x

Riley hit his right arrow key at a continual snail's pace, his fist pushed into the side of his face as he scanned the different camera views and waited for further instructions as they made their way to the most secure place in the bank. He was (once again) handcuffed to an immobile object; Carolyn had drilled a hole through the very edge of the desk and put him there before apologizing.

_'I still love you,' she had said, and he gave her a pleading look._

_'Can we just go home? And by home, I mean not Ian's house.'_

_'Our house.' She had given him a quick kiss. 'This won't take long.'_

Psh, yeah, he thought sarcastically. Not long at all. Just get the compass and leave and find the treasure. Just a few days, week tops. Heck, maybe he'd be dead before then.

He stopped on the camera showing Sally and Charlie rip open an overabundant supply of lollipops in one of the storage closets near the entrance of the bank, the two of them stuffing and dumping as many as they could into the bag and Charlie's pockets. He couldn't keep from smiling the tiniest of smiles, knowing he would be the one to help them eat them all before Abigail went insane. He tried not to think of the cavities he'd get.

The lobby camera was empty.

The eight cameras by the tellers were empty.

Ben's Bluetooth camera came up next. They were coming up on the main vault entrance. Riley boredly switched windows on the computer, punching in a long list of codes to disarm the security and lengthen the amount of time he could keep it disabled.

"Riley-"

"Yeah, you're a go," he cut off begrudgingly, pressing the 'Enter' key to grant them access.

A deep 

_click_ came from the solid metal door before them. Abigail reached passed Carolyn and helped pull it open. Alex made another sound of surprise as Ben stepped forward with a small but powerful LED light.

"Hey, Riley, can-"

The lights came on without a response. Ben sighed.

"Thank you."

Riley remained silent on the other end, so Ben just motioned for the others to follow. The room was horizontally long with a four advanced computers and conveyer belts separated in glass chambers with shades for privacy. Ben immediately headed for one, but the door was locked.

"Riley-"

"It's an advanced triple lock," Riley's annoyed voice suddenly came. "First you have to enter a pin number on the lock to verify you have an account you can access in the glass box. Then you have to use the electronic keycard given to you upon arrival of your visit to the bank by the teller, and lastly, you must obtain the actual key."

Abigail looked at the lock more closely. "They still use an actual key?"

"Security measure against hackers," he said curtly, smiling on the other end of the conversation. Abigail's shoulders fell, and she looked back up at Ben.

"Did they give you a key?"

"Just the electronic card," Ben said, nodding to Carolyn as she held it up from the file. He looked at the keyhole and congratulated the heads of security on their cleverness. "I didn't get access code, and there was no actual metal key." He looked at the glass in thought. "How thick-?"

"Three and three-fourths inches," Riley said, leaning back in his chair. He winced at the pain shooting over his entire nervous system from his shoulder, and tried to ignore it. "If you'd kick it, you would break your leg."

The comment came off as a sugary polite suggestion, and Ben, Abigail, and Carolyn exchanged looks. Carolyn sighed. "Knock it off, Riley."

Suddenly, the room fell into a thick, almost palpable darkness around them. Alex began to pout as Ben held tighter to him and screamed into the nothingness.

"RILEY!!"

At the left end of the room, a single light came on above an unmarked door. Calming down, Carolyn walked towards it with Ben and Abigail, stopping before it in a small pool of filtered light. A small keypad consisting of only the numbers zero and one were above the silver knob.

"It's a binary code," she said, reaching out to it.

"Yeah, and one wrong press locks this whole thing down," Riley warned, but it did not ward off her hand.

"Yes, I know," she said, examining the lock for another way in. "Riley, we need the code."

"What's the code?" Abigail asked, Carolyn's thumb at the ready. "Read it off."

"Or I could do this."

A small beep came from the keypad, and they watched their faces in the in doorknob as it turned itself to the right and opened the door. Ben looked slightly impressed in the doorknob's reflection.

"Not bad."

Carolyn led them inside, the lights once again coming on before they asked. She figured Riley was just being a show-off to let Ben know how none of this could be done without him, or he was just saving himself from having to talk to them. As they snaked through the long hallway, she knew it was the latter.

The next entrance they came to was a set of solid steel double doors, and they were already eased open by the invisible work of Riley. A sheet of blue lasers vanished, followed by the green lights of the motion sensors. An elevator glided open smoothly, its back wall made entirely of glass with a gold hand rail. Carolyn, Abigail, Ben, and Alex boarded it, and Carolyn looked at the buttons.

"We need to get to the central vault," she said to Riley over the earpiece. "What do I hit?"

From in the room, Riley switched over to Carolyn's camera and looked at the elevator pad layout. He flipped through an engineer's manual encased in a binder and found the page, running his finger down the list of destinations to which each button delivered the car next to the diagram.

"Second one in the second column," he said after reading the tiny print.

Inside the elevator, Carolyn hit the button, and the elevator doors shut, moving smoothly downward. The three of them watched the glass panel of the elevator curiously as they slid down into the depths of the bank. Then, a kind of dull factory lighting seeped into the bottom of the glass pane and moved higher up. Carolyn, Ben, and Abigail leaned into the glass in awe at the intimidating size of the machines and vaults spread out in a seemingly endless room.

"Wow," Ben said, eyes taking everything possible in.

"It doesn't look this big from the outside," Abigail said with a laugh.

"That's because you're underground," Riley's voice pointed out as the elevator stopped at a platform halfway down. The glass pane lowered itself for them to step out, and they went down a set of stairs to the main floor of the loud, humming room. Carolyn was already making her way over to a huge wall of symmetrical vaults. Tiny ones were stacked on others that could fit a large group. She sighed.

"Which one?" she asked. Ben looked at the main summary again for the account number. He read it aloud.

"'Riggs National Bank Private Swiss Account Security Class B,'" he read. "'Number 0154012796.'" A smile touched his lips after rereading the umber several times. "It's Francis Drake's lifetime," he said in disbelief. "Look. Born 1540. Died January 27, 1596."

Riley stopped typing momentarily on the other end. "I thought the bank issued your account number?"

"Regardless," Abigail said, equally astonished. "We're close."

"Yeah, whoop-dee-doo," Riley said unenthusiastically. After several minutes, the system was finally under his control. Proud of what he was capable of but upset as to what his capabilities were being used for, Riley executed the retrieval of the vault's contents. "Coming at'chya."

Ben, Abigail, Carolyn, and even Alex looked up, watching a vault near the ceiling open. A smaller case within was set on one of the giant conveyer belts and zipped around the room. Before it was sent to one of the glass chambers they could not access before, Riley shut down the conveyer belt.

"Here, you got him?" Ben asked, passing Alex to Carolyn.

"Yeah, come on."

Ben ran up to what they had sought after all this time, unlatching the protective case immediately. A flood of anticipation took him as he picked up the flat, round object wrapped in various foams, cushions, and finally, a very thin cloth. He unwrapped it all with care despite his urge to rip it open like a Christmas gift, and air became unimportant when he looked at his own reflection in the face of the four-hundred-year-old compass he knew would be here.

"Oh my god," Abigail breathed excitedly. She glanced over at Carolyn, but the woman could not take her eyes from it. It was real. It was all real. She felt goose bumps prickle the entire surface of her skin and delighted in the sensation.

"Incredible," she finally said. "How do we tell if it's connected to the one Maddox had?"

"We'll sort it out somewhere else," Ben said, putting the compass into a box of his own that Abigail held open for him. "Let's get back home first. Then maybe we can call Whittacre for a bargain." When he was certain it was safe enough, he closed the lid, and Abigail hurried put it back in her bag.

"Call Whittacre?" Riley repeated. He did not think it a good idea. "Why would you do _that_?"

"This is a Roanoke treasure, not a Revolutionary War treasure," Ben explained as Carolyn took them back up the stairs to the elevator. "He's got more knowledge on the subject matter. Like me and the Templars, he has studied everything possible about the Lost Treasure."

"He has information we don't?" Carolyn asked.

"A lot more," Ben said, not wanting to admit it. "I know a lot about the mystery, but I don't compare to someone who's earned degrees in it. Just like he'll never match me at American history."

"May I point out," Riley said, "that you could've DONE THIS a WEEK ago?" He went unanswered.

"Get Charlie and Sally," Abigail said quickly to him. "Tell them to be in the lobby now."

Riley sighed from the chair, rubbing his face in frustration. Without a word back to them, he switched cameras and turned on the storage area intercom.

"Bonnie, Clyde," – the two children looked up from a scattered mess of lollipops – "Grab all the gold you can and move it to the getaway car. Let's go."

"Okay!" Charlie replied.

Riley watched them scramble to stuff every lollipop conceivable into the Disney Princess and Marvel book bags already bursting at the seams from over-packing. He switched the camera off when he 

saw them run out of the room, unable to zipper the bags closed. He then went to close his laptop and stand, but the forgotten restraint on his wrist yanked him back into the chair. He stared at it lividly before pressing the main intercom button.

"Hi everyone, this is you underappreciated hacker, fiancé, ex-friend, and disinclined accomplice Riley speaking," he said pleasantly. "Someone wanna come, you know, if you're not too busy to remember me… let me _go_?!"

Carolyn sighed as they entered the lobby, taking a side route. "I got him."

"Thank you, dearest," Riley said sweetly again.

He snapped his laptop closed moodily and fell back into the chair, ripping the Bluetooth from his ear. He looked at the table, thinking only of how he could be on his way to Barbados at that very moment.

**. Please Review .**


	8. At the End of the Day

**Hey everyone! Vacation was great, and I'm sorry I had to take another week to finish this. But ti's done now, and I'm in a hurry to get somewhere, so I will let you read now! Thanks to all who read and reviewed! :)**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Seven .**

On the way back to the Gates Manor, Abigail had insisted that Riley sit up front with her and Alex. Ben was going to offer to drive, but really, what would Riley possible do? Carolyn sided with Abigail on the suggestion, and Ben agreed, finding himself apologizing to Riley as he removed the handcuffs from him.

"What happened in the ambulance-"

"Please," Riley said, rubbing his wrists as the handcuffs fell away, "spare me."

Ben sighed. "Listen, I know I've screwed up and you're not going to forgive me for it," – he waited for Riley to interrupt but continued when he saw him listening impatiently – "but I still need your help. I don't know what else we could come to face, but computer or no computer, the whole thing seems unbalanced without you."

"Unbalanced?" Riley didn't see how the word fit, so Ben searched for another.

"It wouldn't… be the same?" he clarified sheepishly.

Riley felt like a rag doll; his body was flimsy and worn out, and his hard, immobile eyes stared right at Ben, their luster dulled. Ben could see it, but Riley could feel it. He could feel it dragging him down, ambushing the vestiges of his innocence that kept him in that naïve, sarcastic, boyish ambiance. He didn't feel playful anymore, neither curious nor inquisitive.

Riley Poole suddenly had the feeling that he had just grown up.

He lowered his head as Ben's line ran through his head again. _It wouldn't be the same._ Reality reared its ugly head at Riley, and he realized he was probably more disappointed than Ben to finally acknowledge the fact as he walked away.

"Nothing is the same anymore, Ben."

Now, sitting in the front seat of an armored bank truck (was there really need to put the word 'stolen' in front of anything anymore?), Riley's conscious reprimanded him incessantly. It nagged at him to just make peace, because Ben wasn't letting him and Carolyn go, and even though he had nowhere to really go except back to that stupid Ian Howe Estate of Ultimate Demise, he'd prefer to leave. Get away before he went and lost more brain cells hearing Ben dribble on mindlessly about history and treasure, before he died from some treasure hunting related danger or drama, before he simply wet insane from trying to rationalize everything so much and convince himself that all of it wasn't happening.

As their twenty-five minute drive was drawing to a close, Abigail silently glanced at Riley for the umpteenth time. He wasn't okay, and god only knew the dread she felt in playing a part in all this. Zoned out as he appeared, Abigail wondered how much it bothered him to see her in Carolyn's wedding dress right beside him. Between them, Alex had fallen asleep, his head resting comfortably against Riley's arm. He seemed unfazed as fire engine went whining by with their loud sirens.

Abigail took a flying a chance at a conversation she knew would be one-sided, desperate to see something remind her of her Riley. This one was so desolate and lonely, even hopeless. She didn't want him to believe that.

"Riley?"

He stared ahead, wounded, his gaze fixated through the windshield.

"I just wanted you to know," she said gently as two more fire trucks whizzed past, "that if you ever wanted or needed to come back to the manor and stay for a while, you're always welcome to."

Riley slowly sat up on the edge of the seat still looking through the window. "Thank you, Abigail, but I can't."

She rolled her eyes, missing his undertone of panic. "Listen, I will talk to Ben-"

"You better," Riley half-laughed, face almost touching the windshield now. "About finding a new house."

When Abigail looked ahead, another army of fire engines and emergency vehicles went speeding around their armored truck, heading for a great, strong, fiery inferno blazing high above a collection of trees. Her heart dropped as she slammed unforgivably hard on the brakes. She and Riley stared at the horrific sight, the sounds of the passengers in the back hitting off the metal wall between them.

Abigail's hands slipped from the steering wheel, trying to deny the scene before her. She did not move whatsoever as Ben walked up to the window next to her. He in fact stared at his burning home as she did with confusion and a faint hope that it was all a mistake on his part. Everything, _everything_ in that house… all the historical and personal treasures… claimed by fire and smoke as blacker than the night sky.

"Wh-? What happened?" Ben stammered, bringing his hand to his forehead. His refutation, accompanied with an increasing insatiable anger, sent him in disjointed circles while a group of police cars drove by. Finally, Ben gripped the edge of Abigail's window to steady himself from the dizzying vista. He shut his eyes tight in the process of slimming down the causes of all this.

"Get out of the road."

Riley looked over at him reflexively and then to Abigail. She had fallen back into the seat unable to tear her eyes from the towering flames. They danced on the surface of her glassy eyes mockingly.

"Abigail, we gotta move," Riley said, shaking her arm as Ben met his eyes. The exchange was like instinct, requiring little thinking or memory of hatred. Riley didn't like it.

"We're going up the road here that overlooks the backyard and court," Ben told him as Riley nodded stiffly. "Hurry, I've got to make a phone call."

Riley made a rude face, mimicking Ben childishly as he walked away. "'Meh, I have to make a phone call.'" He grunted softly and folded his arms over his chest. "Who's he calling? Ghostbusters? Mythbusters? The History Channel?" He got a look from Abigail to show she thought his rant unnecessary, and he glared at her out of the corner of his eye and said, "What?"

She smiled involuntarily. Her husband and Riley fought like siblings, but she chose not to tell him this lest she endure Riley's griping of the subject and heighten the aggressiveness of the dispute. For now, Abigail kept quiet and released the break when she heard the heavy metal door close behind her, spinning gravel as she moved up the road with more police cars and made a turnoff.

At the crest of the hill, Abigail came to a smoother stop. Within seconds, everyone had left the vehicle in case by some miracle what they had seen on the road below was something different that what they were witnessing now. Riley was even stunned. That… that had been his home for the past seven years. Had his bad karma done this? As much as he could honestly say he had a passionate hatred toward Ben right now, he didn't deserve to have his home engulfed in hot fire right in front of him. No one did.

Somehow he had wrapped an arm around Carolyn without knowing it, and Charlie was standing next to them solemnly with a handful of lollipops.

"Charlie, you and Sally should go back in the truck," Riley told him gently. "Maybe go make sure your brother's okay?"

"Why is the house on fire, Mom?" Charlie asked. "Will the firemen put it out so we can go back inside in the morning?"

Abigail knelt down to her eldest son. It was evident that she as trying not to look pained through her smile, but it wasn't even getting past Charlie. She rubbed his arms quickly and said, "I don't know, sweetie. Go back to the truck with your sister. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Riley stopped following their conversation when he looked to Ben who was anxiously pacing with his phone to his ear. Carolyn and Abigail also turned to him when he started speaking, a voice faintly heard on the other end.

"Hi, sorry I can't talk now, but if you call my assistant at-"

"Trust me," Ben said sharply as his greeting, "you have time to talk to me."

A stagnant pause was followed by a jovial voice that sounded very out-of-place. Carolyn recognized it immediately as Maddox.

"Benjamin Gates! It is you, then?"

Ben was polite but biting in his tone. "Yes. I'd like to discuss a few things."

"What a coincidence. I would like to as well, regarding several matters."

"The first of which being why you've set fire to my house." Riley never could understand how Ben could sound so cool, calm, and collected about things normal people would be in an uproar about, but the poise (at least at one point in time) was admirable. And oddly threatening without a trace of hostility.

Whittacre did not sound the least bit resentful. "My compass wasn't there," he said as if it were a perfectly acceptable means of justification while a knowing weight in Ben's tuxedo jacket grew heavier. "Which leads us to our next topic of meeting in person so you can give it to me."

"Ben, I don't think you should," Abigail beseeched quickly, glancing between him and their burning home. "It's not worth it-"

"I have to," he said, trying not to come off as irritated as he covered the receiver. "But we need his help. He doesn't know there's a second compass, and we're at a standstill."

Riley laughed. Ben had officially lost his mind. "Did you look over the hill?! He torched your house! And you still trust him?!"

"I don't trust him at all," Ben said haughtily. "Believe me, the contact is mutually unwanted." Riley shook his head and looked away. Ben brought the phone back to his ears, shoving his hand into his pocket as he watched several thick streams of water blast into the stubborn fire.

"-ates? Gates, an-"

"We'd like to meet as soon as possible," Ben told him immediately.

"Well that's what I like to hear," Maddox said encouragingly. "Unfortunately I can't at the moment… How about Gettysburg the day after tomorrow? I trust you to keep my compass safe until then."

Ben would've threatened to break the compass before then, but he knew, like Maddox and everyone else, that he wasn't about to crush a clue to a possible treasure and end to the trivial Roanoke mystery. He was that predictable, and it made him angry not for the first time in his life. Regrettably, Maddox made him an offer he could not refuse.

"Gettysburg… Why the location?" he asked curiously.

"I'll be in Ohio tomorrow and won't make it back to Roanoke in time, otherwise I'd invite you right into my backyard," Maddox said. "And despite being a history buff like you, I've never been there. Perhaps we can take a tour?"

"Yeah," Ben complied blandly. "Sounds great."

"Perfect. We'll say around… noon? How about in Devil's Den? I've always wanted to go trekking around down there."

A portion of the roof fell from the house in the distance. Ben resisted grinding his teeth.

"I'll be there."

"I should hope so."

With that, the line was dead, silent in Ben's ear. He slapped the phone shut and brought his hand to his mouth, watching as his home and all of its history burn in the fiery display. Abigail was still crouching as she looked on powerlessly; she was very sure she'd fall over if she tried to stand. Riley saw the thin trace of tears brimming along her eyelids, starting to spill over and slide down her face. Carolyn was transfixed as well, her chest heaving her denial, but she was capable of speech.

_Now what?_ was exactly what they were all thinking. Carolyn knew that.

"Let's go to the Estate," she said. Finally, her eyes left the fire and turned to Ben. "We can figure out the compass there."

Ben swallowed painfully against the rage rising in his throat. "No. No, it could be a trap," he said, trying to think as the black smoke began to blow towards them in the chill February wind.

"Or burning to the ground," Riley muttered, part of him secretly hoping it was. Carolyn gave him a look, but not one of reprimand. One of realization. It very well might be, considering Maddox Whittacre had approached her in the estate's home almost a week prior. That was where the compass had been, so he must have gone there, too.

"We can't go there," Ben said to the dirt and gravel.

"He's right." Abigail stood, now leading them back to the steel armored truck, pretending the home behind her was not hers. Riley quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Could we drive by just to make sure?" Off Carolyn's expression, he said, "I just want to make sure it's okay."

"Yeah, I bet," she huffed doubtfully. Riley simply shrugged. At least he had pretended to care for half a moment. But that moment was gone now. Oh well. Guess they'd just have to find somewhere else to live. And if it wasn't burning to the ground like the manor was at that moment, Riley considered accidently-on-purpose knocking over a candle in the library.

"We can't," Ben insisted, climbing into the front seat to drive now. "He probably expects us to go there."

"And he could be waiting for us," Abigail said.

"Either that or he knows we won't turn up," said Ben. "It doesn't matter right now."

Riley stopped in his tracks on the way to the back, staring at Ben sullenly. "It doesn't _matter?_ Your house is on fire!"

"Why do you always state the obvious?" Carolyn asked as she walked by.

"Because _he_ has a tendency to overlook it."

"Riley, please get in the truck so we can leave," Ben said civilly. To this, Riley could only smile and take a step back, holding his arms out wide and enjoying the feeling of defiance.

"You can't make me."

Ben leaned out the window, trying to talk without pretense of words. "You're right," he said, almost knocking Riley backward at the unexpected statement. "I can't make you get in the truck and continue to help me."

"Y- That's… that's right," Riley defended with a show of uncertain confidence. "You can't. And you can't make Carolyn, either."

"I didn't make Carolyn do anything," Ben said, glancing beside him where she leaned against the truck. "She volunteered. You used to do that."

"Yeah, back when I had nothing but an apartment and a Geo."

"Well, you don't have that Geo anymore. You don't have a Lamborghini. You don't have a home, just like me," he said with a nod to the afar blaze. Riley's face flared in light of the fact; he might not even have the Estate to go to now. Ben met his eye seriously, an underlay of despotism evident enough. "Just like me, in the morning, you'll be hunted once again by the FBI for robbing a national bank and have nowhere to hide but on the road with us."

Riley looked back at the house. His eyes narrowed and jaw set. People lied when they said that the truth hurts. It didn't hurt Riley. It just screwed up his life beyond the point of no return, and as mad as he was, he wished things would go back to the way they were.

But that wasn't likely to happen seeing as his fairy godmother was absent at the time. Right now, he was being held against his will by his once-best friend, Maddox Whittacre was after all of them (and soon, too, would be the FBI as Ben so considerately reminded him), and he really did have nowhere to go now except into that truck or a small thicket of thorn bushes.

But Ben was wrong about one thing.

"I'm not 'just like you,' Ben."

The historian nodded slowly, seeing it as a fair argument.

"Well that's true. Unlike me, you don't have a say at the moment." He did not falter when Riley glared at him. He couldn't allow himself to. "Would you please get in the truck?"

Between the unremitting staring of Ben, Abigail, and Carolyn, and how undesirable diving into a thorn bush sounded even in comparison to handcuffs, Riley began to head for the back of the truck, much to Ben's relief. He wasn't about to let Riley out of his sight with Maddox burning buildings to the ground in search of them.

"Thank you."

"Are you going to handcuff me?" Riley asked Carolyn as if the answer were already predetermined.

"Not if you behave," she joked, heading back with him. Ben listened to their muffled conversation die out with the slam of the heavy steel rear door. He started the truck with one last look at the burning remains of his home and drove off without a word.

x x x

"Quincy! Be quiet!"

Out in the hall, Patrick listened as his golden retriever quieted for four seconds and resumed its barking as it ran downstairs. Patrick sighed. It was futile to keep that dog quiet at night anymore, and if he was being honest with himself, he hadn't minded for the last two weeks. He hadn't been able to sleep anyway.

He looked at the picture on his nightstand he had found a month or so before his wife's passing of the two of them on opposite sides of their graduating son. There were better pictures where he didn't look so bitter and her smile didn't look so fake, but he had stared at it every night since the funeral until he would finally fall asleep, finding some new little detail every time.

Tonight though, Quincy was keeping him awake instead of depression with his infernal barking. Patrick groaned angrily and got out of bed, grabbing his robe as he came out of his bedroom.

Squirrels. This had to be about squirrels. It was the only thing the dog barked at besides chipmunks and the vegetable drawer of the refrigerator.

"Quincy, what is wrong with you?" Patrick asked, turning on the light as he came downstairs to see the energetic dog barking loudly at the front door. A squirrel-related scolding on his tongue vanished as a pronounced knock came at the door that was definitely not something of which a squirrel was capable. Patrick hurried to the door, petting the dog to calm him.

"Get back, boy. Come on."

He turned on the porch light and opened the door, blinking in confusion as his son pushed past him and into the house with a group to follow.

"Hi, Dad. Did we wake you?" Ben continued into the dining room, obviously not caring for a reply. Patrick stared at him incredulously as his two eldest grandchildren wrapped themselves around his legs tightly and almost knocked him over. Abigail came in with Alex smiling sheepishly.

"I… No, I was already awake, but… what is this?" he asked, wondering why Abigail was the one in the wedding dress. Riley came in looking none too happy in his rumpled tuxedo. "Is this because I missed the wedding?"

"What wedding?" Riley murmured as he passed into the house with Carolyn. She gave Patrick an apologetic smile as well, leaving him to only assume exactly how Riley's comment had been meant to be interpreted. He looked directly to Ben.

"What did you do now?"

Ben sat a bag on the table they were all gathering around, Charlie and Sally dumping their hoard of lollipops on one end and excitedly sorting them into flavor groups with Quincy happily reuniting with his favorite playmates. Riley slumped into a chair and swiped a lollipop for himself as they others unloaded. Patrick stood in the doorway utterly bewildered, still having no answers.

"Ben, what is all this? What are you-?"

Ben set the wooden box on the table and opened it, revealing the second compass and silencing his father's demeaning questioning. Patrick looked on it with a frown of disapproval, but intrigue nonetheless. "Where did you get that? What is it?"

"It's a compass," Ben said, now pulling out Maddox's and setting the two side by side.

"Well I can see that!" Patrick said. He pointed to the other one. "Why do you have two compasses? What is going on?"

"Well," Riley said with sigh, "long story short: Maddox Whittacre gave her brother a compass that's going to lead him to a lost Roanoke treasure, they didn't give it back, Whittacre crashed the wedding and burned the manor, we broke into the bank because Ben's impatient, and now he's on about the two compasses being connected."

Patrick looked around, concerned when none of them laugh or tell him it was a joke. He went back to Riley just to make sure, and the young man raised his eyebrows as verification.

"Oh, and your son shot me and kidnapped me so I could hack him into the bank system."

Ben seemed not to be listening as he sat down and reexamined Maddox's compass. Patrick was livid.

"You're shooting people, now?!"

"I saved him," Ben replied calmly, reading the riddle etched around the compass once more. "And we knew Whittacre would come run us out for the compass. I couldn't wait for the bank. I had to get what Mom left me, and it happened to be this – The compass of Francis Drake."

Great. His son had robbed a bank. No doubt the FBI would be over in a short while and he, Patrick, would unwillingly be roped into all this nonsense. Again. However, this really didn't surprise him. It was almost accepted without thought. Ben should've had the compass in the first place (why would Emily leave him a compass and where did she get it?), and he'd tell any FBI agent that. Now, Maddox Whittacre's involvement in this fairytale surprised him.

"You're telling me that the Roanoke fellow burned down your house? The nice one on television finding the remains of the colony with his boat?"

"He makes him sound like Santa Claus," Carolyn murmured in amusement to Riley. Riley looked between Patrick and Abigail as they made eye contact, murmuring back with his lollipop in the side of his mouth, "Yeah. Anti-Santa."

"I don't believe it," Patrick said absolutely. "It had to be someone else." But no one made any indication. The silence made Ben's father slowly realize how real this situation was. He didn't want to think of it since he, like Carolyn, had been looking forward to meeting the man as one historian to another, but his judgment was terribly askew.

"So it was… him?"

"Yes," Abigail said heavily, holding to a chair. Her voice impacted Patrick unexpectedly, and his shoulders fell sympathetically when the tragedy came alive in that one word. She took a deep breath 

and said, "He wants this compass to help him find a treasure that is somehow associated with the Lost Colony of Roanoke. He gave it to Ian years ago to pay for funding for his Roanoke project."

"But now we have this compass," Ben said, lifting the second compass from the box carefully. "And if I'm right, these two are related, and neither Maddox nor I will find anything without each other's help."

Riley couldn't help be feel that the last part was directed toward him.

"What makes you think Maddox needs _your_ help?"

"He can't find his treasure without his compass, now can he?"

"Hey, just… stop. Wait a minute," Patrick said, flustered. "First things first. Are you staying the night?"

Ben couldn't believe it. Of all the questions he could ask!

"My bed is a pile of ashes."

"All right, I just wanted to know. Don't act like that; you barged in here at 12:30 unannounced."

"We're meeting Maddox in Gettysburg the day after tomorrow to discuss the compasses and see if we can't reach some sort of deal," Ben told him. "We'll be gone after that. You're coming with us."

Patrick threw his arms to the side. "As if I didn't see that coming."

"Isn't he getting good at that?" Riley asked him from across the table. Patrick just stared at him to which Riley took some offense. "Hey, at least he didn't handcuff and kidnap _you_."

"I'm his father. I wouldn't be dumb enough to let him."

"Oh, you mean like when we tied you up in the chair?"

Ben gave Riley a warning look. "Keep the sucker in your mouth."

When Ben looked back down, Riley crunched the little green lollipop in one, noisy bite. Ben cringed while Riley chewed with a smug grin. Patrick cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"You're becoming your mother."

"No," his son replied distractedly with his eyes glued to his inherited compass, "not yet…" He looked on the face of the aged compass with scrutinizing eyes. Little words were written under the dirty glass between the cardinal directions. He sat up in his chair. "Look, come look at this."

The attention of the group gathered around Ben as it typically did when he uttered those words, as if it were some magical secret power or, god forbid, _code_ word. Riley instinctively craned his neck to see and scooted his chair a little closer, hoping he would spontaneously combust from overexposure to codes and mysteries and treasures and history. Ben had made him dislike codes now. It had come to this.

Regardless of how annoyed Riley was feeling, he was still captivated by the discovery. Charlie and Sally ran around to see as well, poking up on either side of their father.

"What is it?"

"It's a compass for when you get lost," Sally said.

Charlie shook Ben's arm. "Are we lost, Dad? Huh?"

"We might as well be," Ben said under his breath as everyone gathered around him. He held out the compass so all eyes could see it. Riley was somehow pushed right up next to Charlie now with Carolyn and Alex leaning over him. He felt like he was coming off as overeager.

"Gather round the campfire, y'all," he droned sarcastically.

"Stop it," Carolyn said. She felt Alex grow heavy in her arms but decided she could hold him up long enough to hear what was going on. "Ben? What're you trying to show us?"

"This." His finger circled the edge of the compass's face to indicate where he wanted them to look. "In between the cardinal letters. There's writing, but I can't read it through the glass. It's dirty underneath."

"Pop it out." Abigail took it from him gently without acknowledging his babbles of protest and fixed her fingernail in between the glass and wood. With little effort, the glass lifted free in a few wiggles. Ben and Patrick never looked more like father and son than when they shared the same big, shocked eyes and agape mouth. She handed both pieces back to her husband. "The adhesive was dry-rotted. It's four hundred years old."

"Still!" Patrick said indignantly. Ben held his tongue, lamenting the condition the compass was now in but knowing it was required for him to properly analyze what he knew to be writing.

"Another message," he said, looking for the beginning of the phrase with a nod to Maddox's compass. "Just like on this one."

"You know, maybe it was just a fad," Riley tried. "Maybe it was cool to write poetry on your compass four hundred years ago and think nothing of it."

"Then why does it have a similar style of letter carved in the back?" Ben showed the bottom of his compass to Riley, revealing a large 'E' on its wooden underbelly. To emphasize his point, Ben took Maddox's compass and turned it over on the table to remind Riley what the 'N' looked like. Indeed the 'E' and 'N' were alike.

Riley looked at Ben hesitantly.

"Maybe carving giant letters on your compass was a fad, too?"

Ben's shoulders fell. "No."

"It spells 'ne,'" Charlie said proudly.

"Nuh uh!" Sally said. "It spells 'en!' You did it backwards!"

"It doesn't spell anything," Abigail told them. "They represent directions."

"And the 'E,'" Carolyn said quickly at this, reaching out to touch it. "It means East. 'Twilight's air.'"

"Yes," Ben said, glancing at Riley. "Twilight. The sun rises in the _East_. Compass E. The East Compass."

"Meh, the East Compass," Riley mocked.

"What now?" Patrick asked.

"The riddle on this compass made references to the direction of East," Ben said, handing the North compass to his father so he could read the riddle around it himself. "We think there are two more, but we wouldn't know where to find them. This one was in the bank because of Mom, and the riddle gave no indication of a definite location."

Patrick read the first riddle pensively. He saw the East references, but as Ben said, no true location. He nodded to the compass in Ben's hands. "Maybe there's a clue to the next one's location in that one," he suggested. "I mean, if they really are related, which they look it."

"Looks can be deceiving…" Riley reminded in a sing-song voice.

"You're just being uncompromisable," Patrick said, pointing to Riley. "You're causing trouble." He snorted in response.

"Uh, yeah! I'm being held against my will!"

"Please," Abigail interjected firmly, "save it for just five minutes. Okay?"

"No!" Riley said as Carolyn grew tired of his persistent flouting behind him. "I am so sick of being told what to do by all of- mmph!" Before he knew it, Carolyn was kissing him to silence him. The twins made sounds of disgust for its duration. Carolyn ended it just as abruptly as she had started it and received an evil eye from Riley.

"Now, you're being a tease."

"Just read the writing already," Abigail said exasperatedly.

Ben looked at the writing between the giant letters, starting with the line right after the 'N,' reading clockwise. "It says 'O Greenleaf of destined fate, Against a blaze for moral state.'"

Abigail wrote it down immediately on a legal pad nearly identical to the one Ben had written the Declaration's Ottendorf cipher on years ago. Having picked up a few things on breaking down and interpreting some riddles from Ben, her mind began to make connections. She circled 'fate' and 'blaze.'

"Look," she said, pointing to the same words on the compass. "Allusions to South. 'Blaze.' The element of fire is corresponded to that direction."

"And 'fate' is also associated with it," Ben explained to everyone, "like twilight is with East." He reread the riddle on the yellow paper and compass a few more times to sink it into his head.

_'O Greenleaf of destined fate  
Against a blaze for moral state.'_

"Whatever or whoever Greenleaf is, it was involved in a fight. Or a war," Ben said. "Fight for morals. What they believed to be right in their eyes."

"Here."

Riley jumped as Carolyn sat his laptop in front of him, looking up at her.

"Where're the kids?"

Ben finally realized that Charlie and Sally were missing from either side of him, probing Carolyn with the same question in his eyes. She jerked her head towards the living room.

"I laid Alex on the couch. Charlie and Sally are watching television. They'll be out soon."

Satisfied with her answer, Ben and Abigail now looked to Riley as he connected his computer to the Internet without a word, saving himself the unwanted drama he knew arguing would induce.

"What am I looking up?"

"O Greenleaf and war," Ben instructed, his father reading the riddle on the notepad with Abigail. Riley typed professionally and struck the Enter key, a moderate listing of information being listed that didn't seem relevant at all.

"Half this stuff is about Lord of the Rings," he said. "Legolas Greenleaf and the War of the One Ring."

"That's not right," Carolyn said. Riley shrugged.

"Drake must have been a Tolkien fan." He made a face, clicking the first link. "Here's one on the Revolutionary War," he said, all three people on his right leaning forward in earnest like the history nerds they were. He sat back to show them the webpage. "It's a picture of an attendance roster. 'An Alphabetical List of the Sons of Liberty who din'd at Liberty Free-'"

"Tree," Abigail corrected.

"'Liberty Tree,'" Riley repeated. "'Dorchester, August 14, 1769.'" He maximized the picture before he was asked, looking under the G section and rambling off all the Greenleafs (Green_leaves_?) he saw. "Greenleaf, William… Greenleaf, John… Greenleaf, Oliver-"

"That one," Patrick said certainly. "O. Greenleaf."

"But what if that's like a woeful 'O?'" Riley said. "O, Greenleaf! Why hast thou forsaken me?"

"Oliver Greenleaf, like the paper says, was a member of the Sons of Liberty," Patrick told them. "The Sons of Liberty were a group of rebels that harassed the British authority in the colonies, tarring tax collectors and throwing tea in Boston Harbor. They did it to show their anger and that they wanted to be heard as more than disgruntled English men."

"Yes, they strongly fought for their beliefs in the Revolution," Abigail said. Riley saw Ben getting that grin on his face again.

"'Against a blaze for moral state.'"

"What do the Sons of Liberty have to do with it?" Riley asked. "I thought this was about Roanoke?"

"Yeah," Carolyn agreed, conveying confusion as well.

"I said when we first looked at Maddox's compass that Roanoke was the first attempt to bring hoards of the Templar treasure to the New World," Ben reminded them. "They may have gotten it here, but the location was compromised. Now the Masons, most of which doubled as Sons of Liberty, were hiding the Templar treasure, including this very first shipload."

"I thought it was lost, though?" Carolyn ventured.

Ben shrugged. "Here's where I'm a little skeptical since I've only heard it once or twice; the Sons of Liberty were rumored descendants of the Lost Colonists. I don't think that's accurate, though."

"You will if you want to continue this," Patrick said. "Besides, our family had a brush with the Sons. Frederick Gates, the father of Thomas. In his diary from when he was in the Maryland militia, he wrote about having a few drinks with these people. I believe a Greenleaf was mentioned."

"Do you still have the diary?" Ben asked.

"Somewhere in the attic," Patrick said. "I remember reading it when I was a teenager. I did a school project on it. Frederick was actually invited to a meeting by them, but the militia was moving and he was unable to stay despite expressing interest. It may have very well been this meeting," he said with a nod to the roster on the computer screen. "Dorchester, New Jersey. Some of the Revolutionary heroes attended that meeting. Samuel Adams, John Adams, Paul Revere."

"And Oliver Greenleaf, whoever he is," Riley said, conducting another search for more information on the mysterious colonist from the riddle. He sighed despondently. "There's nothing. Nothing on him. He was a nobody. Oh, wait, here's a genealogy thing…"

"What does it say?" Carolyn asked as a page from a book appeared on the screen. Ben began to read it aloud where he saw 'Oliver Greenleaf' highlighted.

"'Oliver Greenleaf, born 1737. Youngest son of William. Educator of the town of Hancock's Bridge, New Jersey. Fathered five children, including son Oliver who owned a book store on Washington Street in Boston.' He was a schoolteacher, then."

"Why are we supposed be looking up this man?" Abigail asked. "He seemed like a normal citizen wanting to serve his country. What does he have to do with Roanoke?"

"The Sons of Liberty – and I argued against this with my freshman Intro to History professor until I graduated – were the only ones to know what happened to the Lost Treasure from the colony. They had known its location since the mystery arose, and now that the Masons were hiding their own treasure, they had to keep doing the same," Ben said. "Of course, I just assumed that since Masons and members of the Sons of Liberty were all for the same idea of freedom and had one common enemy in England that they just combined the treasures. What we found in New York."

"I thought the same thing after you told me," Patrick said. "That is was a bunch of malarkey."

"Well if you thought they were put together, then your professor obviously thought otherwise," Abigail said. "He thought the Sons were keeping the Lost Treasure from the Masons."

"But why?" Riley asked.

"Yeah," Carolyn said. "It doesn't sound right."

Patrick didn't know what to say. "I could only guess why they wanted to keep their treasure a secret from the Masons, considering most of them _were_ Masons," he said. "Perhaps they knew all along what had happened to their ancestors and didn't want anyone to know. Or maybe the secret was lost before this generation ever got the treasure passed into their hands. It's difficult to say."

"I need to see Frederick's diary," Ben said. "If it's still in the attic."

"Hasn't been moved in years," Patrick told him.

"Good. Riley, find everything you can about Oliver Greenleaf. Any family records, what he ate for breakfast-"

"Family records were kept in Boston in his son's book store until the Civil War," Riley said, having apparently already done more research on his own. "In 1866, the records were moved from Boston to Philadelphia, and again to the Borough of Allenhurst, New Jersey where they currently reside in a family-owned library."

Carolyn met Ben's eyes as she spoke to Riley. "Where's Allenhurst?"

"Coastal town located on the easternmost part of the state," Riley said, checking out a satellite view of the small town. "Population: 684. An 'everybody knows everybody' kind of town." Ben didn't 

look to happy to hear that, but Riley knew it would take a lot more than that to scare Ben away. "What's the grand plan?"

"We have to go there," Ben said. "As soon as possible."

"You're not going to bring Maddox, are you?" Carolyn asked. "We have to meet with him tomorrow, but we don't have to tell him about this. We have to hoodwink him somehow and get there."

"I don't see how," Ben said. "We're going to have to."

"Not if… not necessarily," Riley then said, working something out in his head (though he wasn't sure why because he had no desire whatsoever to participate). Abigail and Patrick were interested that he had spoken up, but Ben played it down, carrying on like this was just another scenario where their feud did not exist.

"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously.

Reluctant to tell, Riley was quiet a moment. Finally, the treasure hunting mindset that he had rubbed off Ben was allowed to be voiced. "You can still meet Maddox and stay one step ahead. There's what? Eight of us? Half goes to Gettysburg to meet Maddox while the other half goes to Allenhurst to get the Greenleaf records," he suggested softly. "We can plan it all out tomorrow while you read your great-grandfather to the ten power's diary and see if you can't get any more information on this guy."

Ben nodded considerately to him. "Sounds like a plan."

"I like having plans where my safety is involved," Riley said, taking a stab at Ben. He brushed it aside and looked at everyone else still hung up on the fact that Riley had just willingly helped determine the next phase of their journey.

"We'll decide who goes where tomorrow," Ben said, rising from the chair and putting away the compasses as Riley looked back at the map on his computer. "I have to go meet Maddox no matter what, and Riley?"

"Huh?"

"You're coming with me."

"Shouldn't I have a choice since I just gave you a wonderful idea?"

"Sure," Ben said. "You can either ride backseat or shotgun."

Riley rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant. I thought we weren't deciding until morning?"

"Um… you're right… Ah!" He pointed at the clock on the wall. "Five til one. Good morning."

Riley fell back into the wooden chair soundly.

"I am never going to get out of here…"

"What?" Carolyn asked, closing his computer for him.

"Nothing," he sighed. "I just… wondered how far Allenhurst is from here."

**. Please Review .**


	9. Where the Massacre Rests

**Wow everyone, I apologize for my extended absence. I had a lot to do in preparation for college this year, and the work load is insane. I have 18 credits, 10 hrs/ week at work, chorus, and I'm a new photographer for the campus newspaper. I've had little time to myself at all, but I felt awful for not updating this in so long. Two more weeks left in the semester, including finals and I'll be done. I've hit a few bumps with this, but I'll only be able to work them out in writing. Thanks for your patience!**

**Also, I have, at the request of some, made a Riley/Abigail video on YouTube. Link will be in my profile shortly.**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Eight .**

"Hey."

Riley looked up from pumping gas at a busy gas station as Carolyn approached.

In the backseat of the car, Ben was sitting with his sleeping six-year-old daughter. As he capped the gas tank, Riley now noticed that Carolyn had been dressed in black since that afternoon, and he stood in the remains of a forgotten tuxedo that reflected only a fraction all of the turmoil the day had incurred. Carolyn watched his jaw stiffen and eyes grow hollow as he avoided her gaze.

"Ben said we're splitting up now," she told him. "I'm going to switch cars with Abigail so we can just… be on way. Shouldn't take long to get to Allenhurst."

Riley just nodded. "You have the directions I gave you?"

"Yes. They're in my bag."

He turned to the pump wordlessly and slid his card through it. His body language radiated anger, but Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm not going to apologize."

He stabbed at the keypad with his finger. "No?"

"No."

"I don't know, I think I kind of deserve one."

"You wouldn't accept it anyway."

Riley looked ready to speak but caught himself. He raised his eyebrows and turned to her.

"You know, you're right," he said bitterly. "I wouldn't. Not when _Ben_edict Arnold here's ruined my life, my wedding, lied to me, shot me, kidnapped me, made me… pump his gas…"

"Alright," she huffed, Riley ripping the receipt from the slot irately. "I'm sorry you weren't told anything and that the wedding was-"

"A scarring, unexpected disaster?"

"In not so many words."

He gave her a look. "I thought you weren't apologizing?"

"For being involved with Whittacre, no; I'm not apologizing for that," she made clear. "I'm apologizing for the way you have been treated, but it's only good if you stop being stubborn long enough to hear and consider it."

"Consider it…"

"I don't expect you to accept on apology from any of us. I don't think you should. We made the wrong decision."

"Yeah. I know."

"I can't apologize for them," she said, glancing between the two cars they were travelling in, "but I know that they aren't sorry for what we're doing now, just that we caused you a lot of unnecessary trouble. I'm sorry for _that_."

Riley shrugged. "I'm sorry that you're not sorry about Maddox."

Carolyn chanced the smallest smile. "I'm not sorry that you're sorry that I'm not sorry about Maddox."

"I'm sorry that… you're not sorry that I'm sorry that you're… _not _sorry about Maddox?"

"That's right," she laughed, glad to see the ghost of a smile lingering on his face.

He cleared his throat, not believing what a sudden turn their conversation had just taken. Despite the fact, he was actually glad to find some level of reconciliation with someone. Riley pushed passed his pride for the time being with a tired sigh, and he reached out for her hand, guiding her to him. Carolyn grew warm in his embrace, but she still felt undeserving of his forgiving gesture. She looked up at him.

"Be careful. And call me."

"I'll see you in a day or two. Unless you can somehow talk Ben into letting me come with you, which I doubt."

"You're safer with him."

He showed her his wrapped shoulder again and mocked her. "Hey, Carolyn, did you see the crater in my shoulder? Ben gave it to me. Wasn't that nice of him?"

"Trust me. A man who's brave enough to shoot his best friend to save him? You'd want to be with him," she assured. She gave him a quick kiss, heading off to the other car. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

x x x

Harper sat on a rock boredly, fist pushed up in his cheek. He and Priscilla watched Maddox pace the narrow dirt path in the thick of Devil's Den, checking his watch often. Why was Dominic graciously excused from this little meeting? His bout of jealousy for his coworker wouldn't relent. Harper hung his head as a half-heartedly trilled his lips. Then, he squinted at the rock below him.

P. NOEL

"Gates! Fortunate you and Abigail could make it," Maddox said with sincere politeness, extending his hand to Abigail. "I don't believe we've formally met."

"No," Abigail smiled cheekily, "I don't think so."

"Well, we are properly acquainted now. Ben, you may remember my assistant Priscilla," – the two exchanged a glare – "and this… is my meteorologist, Harper Kacy."

The young man looked up from tracing his fingers through the carved letters in the rock.

"Hey, who's P. NOEL?"

"P. NOEL?" Abigail asked. "Park Noel. He was an engraver in the area around the time of Civil War."

"Or, if you like the more creative, ghost hunter approach," Ben offered, "it was carved by the ghost of Pauline Noel, a girl thrown from a wagon and killed here in Devil's Den. But no such girl was ever proved to have existed here during that time."

Maddox gave his employee and Ben a similar look. Ben merely raised his eyebrows at Harper.

"It's bad luck if you trace it, so be careful in the future."

Harper withdrew his hand immediately and stood. Abigail hid a smirk.

"Not that I'm not intrigued by your bone chilling storytelling, but might we shove on?" Maddox asked.

"Sure," Abigail said, swinging her backpack around to retrieve the compasses.

"And where is Carolyn? I meant to ask sooner."

"She's continuing our hunt," Ben said, Maddox's face stiffening. He took the East Compass from Abigail as she held the North Compass. "We've got the next part figured out, and we're moving on."

Maddox stared a second longer before taking a step closer to them, humor written in his smile. "I doubt you've got it all figured out. And might I compliment the other compass you've brought along? Very nice," he said, eyes affixed to it longingly with wonder. "I suppose you're making some progress if you have this."

"It was my mom's, actually."

"You're mom's?" Priscilla repeated skeptically.

"Yes. I got it when she passed away recently."

"Oh, and you broke into the bank, that's right!" Harper said. They looked at him slowly. "What? It was on the news this morning. They've already linked you to it."

"Lovely," Abigail commented.

Maddox looked at the East Compass curiously. "How did your mother get this?"

"I don't know. But it's not as simple as me handing you that and walking away anymore," Ben said, nodding the North Compass in his wife's hands. "This was left to me to figure out something she wasn't able to finish, and you can be sure that I intend to do it."

"That was a very certain statement-"

"That was a promise," Ben assured him. He had a great hunch that Maddox knew more than he was letting on. "Here's the impasse; where do we go from here? Together. There's obviously two more compasses we need to locate-"

"You've gotten that far, have you?"

"It wasn't a hard conclusion to come to," Abigail said, turning the compass over to show him the 'N'. "North," – Ben turned his over – "and East. West and South would be next."

"But it makes a circle," Ben continued, "meaning the information is all connected in an ongoing pattern. It ultimately leads nowhere unless we can figure something out after getting all four compasses."

Maddox smiled. "My, you have been doing your homework. Excellent."

"We can explain the riddles to you if you help us where we need you. Carolyn is already after the next compass."

"You may _think_ she is." Maddox pulled out an eyeglass case and opened it, unwrapped the fabric within, and held up the tiny gold pin as he snapped the case shut with a knowing smile. "This is what connects the compasses. It points you in the direction of the next in a clockwise fashion. You were handed those two compasses and made the educated guess that they were related by their riddles, and you were correct. But that's not going to be as easy when it comes to the other two."

Maddox walked up to Abigail and flipped over the compass, reaching over and doing the same to Ben's. Ben's eyes lit up when Maddox inserted the pin into the center and the arrow pointed directly at the one in his own hands. Harper and Priscilla were equally amazed. Maddox wore a boastful grin.

"It is not enough that you rely on the riddles, Ben, but the course you must follow to connect them. Likewise, you can gather all four compasses in a day with this, but without working out the clues, you're no closer to discovering the truth of Roanoke.

"When it comes down to it," Maddox deducted, "you need my pin, and I need your brain."

x x x

It was a quaint library of decent size. Riveted sofas, armchairs, and a few large wooden tables were positioned around the main room of the ground floor, a grandfather clock chiming somewhere amidst the large personal collection of dated volumes. In the center of the large room was a kind of circulation desk at which an old man sat stacking a set of books. Carolyn lifted Alex from his stroller at the front door silently as Patrick continued up the stairs to the second floor unseen. She shook out her snow-covered hair, removed Alex's puffy hood, and looked down at Charlie.

"Ready?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. Come on."

Carolyn smiled courteously as she walked up to the old man, Alex's babbling making him look up suddenly and set the stack of books aside.

"Hello, miss."

"Hi."

He smiled happily at Charlie. "Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm having some car trouble."

"Oh, that's awful," the portly man said, adjusting his tiny glasses. "Especially in this weather."

"Yeah, my boys and I were on our way back from New York-"

"Where's your husband?"

"Wh-? H-He didn't come with us. He's at home."

"Where you headed?"

"Uh, um, Virginia-"

"Oh, you guys have some nice beaches down there. My wife and I vacation there very summer near Norfolk. You from around there?"

Carolyn tried not appear irritated at the random questioning. "No."

"You sure? You look familiar. What's your name?"

"I- Lorraine Fairholm."

"Fairhome?"

"_Holm_."

"Oh. I was gonna say, I know some Fair_homes_, but no Fair_holms_. What were you doing in New York?"

_What was with the third degree?! _

"Visiting family. Anyways, we had this, this really stupid jerk just serve at us out of nowhere-"

"Oh no…"

"- I ran into a ditch, and I don't know the area-"

"There's a garage over Loch Arbour on Emory Street. You want to call them and see if they can't give you a lift?"

Carolyn was finally able to nod, looking relieved. "I have a phone, but could I use the phone book?" She leaned over the desk in search of one as the old man laughed.

"It's in my office, dear, I'll just be a second."

"Can I come see your office?" Charlie piped up. Carolyn's cheeks reddened slightly, the old man looking back over his shoulder.

"Charlie, you stay here."

"Oh, nonsense. The boy can come," the old man said cheerily. "I have another stack of books to carry out, and you can lighten my load by carrying the phone book. Sound good?"

"Yeah! Can I go then?"

Carolyn sighed, adjusting Alex in her arms. "Behave. And come right back."

"Okay!"

The old man led Charlie back a short hallway of aged, stained wood. The wall at the end of the hall had yet another bookcase of fading hardcovers and wrinkled paperbacks, a few folders sticking out in some places. He was rambling on about something boring to do with how many books he had and how the snow had been really bad all winter, but Charlie paid no attention. The old man he thought smelled like the center of an old book that hadn't been opened in years walked into his office to the left. Charlie looked at the peeling paint on the doorframe and did not move.

"Let me see if I can find it here," he growled as he bent over behind a cluttered desk against the wall.

Charlie looked at the desk. "Do you have a phone in here?"

"I used to, but I moved it out to the main desk where I spend most of my time now. Perhaps I should move the phone book out there, too, h-?"

_SLAM_

"Hey!"

Charlie turned the doorknob a few times to make sure it was locked as the old man knocked on the wobbling panes of dirty glass timidly.

"Little boy! Unlock the door please! Just turn that little golden thing there above the knob!"

Charlie walked away.

"Hey! Little boy, come back!"

Carolyn looked up when she saw Charlie bound out of the hallway passed her, heading for the set of stairs. She quickly followed.

"Charlie! What did you do?"

"Locked him in like you told me to!"

"Well is he okay?"

"I saw a fridgerator in there. He has food."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Good to know."

At the top of the heavy wooden staircase, their footsteps were muted by a thin layer of dingy carpet. Carolyn and Charlie looked around the small lobby, pressed for time.

"Grandpa! Where are you?!"

"Shh!"

"Over here, Charlie!"

"Gahhhpa!" Alex screeched, leaning out of Carolyn's arms in the direction of Patrick's voice. Her eyebrows shot up as she followed Charlie.

"Is that considered a word?"

"No. He's too little to talk."

"Well he sure is trying."

Another small corridor took them to a room with a lower ceiling where Patrick was on his knees shuffling through a box of folders and other papers in front of a tall, freestanding cabinet. Carolyn went over and knelt beside him, watching him open a large portfolio gently.

"Have you found anything?"

"I just now found stuff on Greenleaf." Patrick slid a handful of letters out of a section of the portfolio carefully, turning them so that they could read them. "Look at the date," he said, pointing at the numbers in the top right corner. "May 1770. That's nearly a year after the Liberty Tree meeting he attended."

"And look who the letter's from," Carolyn said quickly, showing him the second page. A pleasing chill crept up her spine at the scrawled signature. Patrick seemed just as astonished.

"Paul Revere."

"Did Paul Revere attend the 1769 Liberty Tree Meeting Greenleaf was at?"

"Yes, he was there rallying. And look; he wrote quite a few letters to this Greenleaf fellow. Boy, did Frederick Gates miss an opportunity when he missed that meeting."

"But why was Paul Revere writing to Greenleaf?"

A deep, crashing echo came from downstairs. Carolyn recognized it as the old man probably trying to ram his shoulder against his office door for escape.

"Let's figure it out later," she decided, getting up.

"Good idea."

Patrick collected the letters into the portfolio and rebound it, handing it to his youngest grandson in Carolyn's arms.

"Hold tight to that, little guy." He handed Carolyn the car keys. "I'll be right out."

"Okay. Come on, Charlie."

With luck on their side, they were able to make it downstairs quickly and quietly. Patrick left them as they went out the door, and he headed back to the tiny hallway where the banging was coming from. The old man's blows to the door were becoming weaker as he panted and leaned against the window longer. Patrick unlocked the door and let him out.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Fine, just… this woman's little boy locked me in. Did you happen to see anyone?"

"No. No, I just heard you from the street and wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Well thank you."

Patrick smiled, taking leave. "Take care."

x x x

Ben stared at his opponent, the woman beside him keeping her eyes intense in the sunny afternoon light. Whereas Ian was his accomplice and then his enemy, it now seemed that Maddox was just the reverse. There was just no time for either of them to do it alone, and their unspoken tempers enflamed in their eye contact was all that made it known.

"Are they going in the wrong direction?" Ben asked him.

"Hard to tell, considering I'm not with them and they don't have the East Compass."

"If they figure out this clue and find the next compass," Abigail said, "that's where the dead end will be."

"Unless they have this, which they don't." Maddox pulled the tiny gold pin out of the North Compass, and the arrow went back to obeying its magnetic call due north. He moved over to Ben and placed it in the center of the East Compass, the arrow of it circling until it read north-northeast. Ben looked up; Allenhurst should be almost directly due east. Although this was the location of the next compass, not the location of the information Carolyn and his father were obtaining.

"So how about," Maddox offered, "we go have a talk and get on the same page. Then we can collect the rest of your party and move on."

Abigail looked from Ben back to Maddox. "Where are we going?"

"Just to have bite. I'm famished!" he laughed. "Priscilla saw this really good place on the way here. I wouldn't mind spending a few hours in it while we discuss this over a good meal."

x x x

Sally jumped up from the plush red seat again and gripped the edge of the open carriage excitedly, her blonde hair. Riley reached out and put his arm around her belly, again, as a precaution that she didn't launch out of the carriage at one of the hundreds of boring monuments.

"Culp's Hill, Uncle Riley! The Union defenses made a fishhook here!"

Even though Riley knew that she was probably inaccurate in whatever she was saying, the fact that she was rambling off history-related anecdotes made her all the more like her father every day.

"Fishhook, huh?"

"There's a tower at the top, and we should go climb it!"

He sighed, catching the coachman with a smile. "You are fearless, Bonnie."

"Can we go up it?"

"We'll see. Just enjoy the horsey ride for now."

Sally stood on her tiptoes more as they went around a gradual bend, and Riley jumped when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out and flipped it open.

"Yyyello?"

"Riley, it's Abigail."

He sat up at the softness of her tone. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, we're fine. We met with Whittacre."

"And?"

"Ben and I are going to go talk this over with him. It's our only option right now."

Riley's shoulders fell, and he shut his eyes. "Just… Be careful what you say, Abigail."

"We've got it under control. He's upset that Carolyn wasn't here-"

"Like I'd let her anywhere near him," he huffed, grabbing Sally as she leapt up for the umpteenth time.

On the other end, Abigail smiled, walking behind the rest of the group with Ben glancing back at her every so often. "I need you to take our car and get Sally to Allenhurst. Just in case."

"Alright. Did he threaten us or something?"

"No, but he has this pin that locates the compasses, and we need to negotiate with him."

"A pin?" Riley asked doubtfully.

"You put it in the center of the compass where the arrow rotates, and it points steady at the next one," Abigail explained. "Maddox showed us. Even if Carolyn and Patrick figure out this next clue, we have no idea where the compass is."

Riley blew a raspberry. For some reason, this routine obstacle was still giving him a headache and was incredibly annoying. However, typical. Purely typical.

"Wonderful."

"Tell them when you get there. And be careful."

x x x

"Don't worry, I will," Harper promised begrudgingly.

Priscilla put the dead weight of the handgun in his open palm and dropped a set of car keys on top of it. He looked up at her quizzically.

"There's a white Acura a few blocks straight ahead."

"Oh. Who are the two you want me to shoot in cold blood now?"

"Carolyn Howe and Riley Poole. Take the children and Gates's father and bring them back to us."

"Why the old guy?" Harper asked slowly.

"Where do you think Ben learned all of his history from?"

"A library."

Priscilla's eyes darkened, and the palpitations of Harper's heart grew. He lowered his head, eyeing the gun guiltily.

"Sorry."

"Call Maddox on your way back. Poole should be leaving any minute. You can catch up with him on the turnpike if you leave now."

Harper nodded eventually, avoiding her eyes. He began to walk away. "Right. I'll… call you."

x x x

Patrick had taken the liberty of reserving them a suite at the Empress Hotel in the neighboring coastal town of Ashbury Par during the drive to Allenhurst. Carolyn had seen all the lighted bars and tropical foliage in hotels around the world since the discovery of Oak Island's treasure, but Charlie still expressed great enthusiasm over the gorgeous décor.

In the suite, Charlie plopped into the armchair next to one of the large glass patio doors and turned on cartoons. Patrick sat Alex on the floor with a bag of toys, the baby immediately digging through them.

"Keep it down, boys. Carolyn and I are busy. If you need something important, though, come get us. Stay here and be good, okay?"

"Okay, Grandpa."

Patrick smiled at them. Charlie had his grandmother's undying inquisitiveness, and Alex, to everyone's surprise, had her brown eyes.

Her lovely, dark brown eyes…

"Patrick?"

He started, heading over to the snowy oceanfront alcove where Carolyn was pouring over the letters in the aging portfolio. Patrick sat on the edge of the chaise opposite her, a small glass table spread with yellowing pages pulled between them.

"What'd you find?"

"A lot," Carolyn half-laughed, reaching for one of the letters. "Paul Revere met Greenleaf at the Liberty Tree meeting in 1769. Not only was Paul Revere a Grand Master Mason, but he and Samuel Adams were the leaders of the Sons of Liberty in Massachusetts. Does that mean they were descendants of the Lost Colonists?"

Patrick shook his head. "No. A lot of Sons were recruits. The ones that were also Masons, don't forget, were hiding the Templar treasure at this time, and they got involved with the Sons of Liberty because of word of their own treasure. At least that's what I got from the letters so far."

"Yes, apparently," Carolyn continued, "Paul Revere found out about the Lost Treasure and kept contacting Greenleaf and offered to hide it with the Templar Treasure."

"Where did he want to hide it? In New York?"

"No," Carolyn said, making a face at her own peculiar answer. "Oliver kept declining. He wanted to keep the treasure separate, but Paul Revere still thought it should be hidden from the British. He wrote about… the Boston Lighthouse."

Patrick sat back at the mention of this location. Carolyn was confused. "How?"

"The Lost Treasure may have been there," Patrick said. "The British destroyed it during the Revolutionary War, possibly looking for gold, either Lost or Templar. Nothing was found, though, and it was rebuilt in 1783. It had to have been moved before the attack."

"But where?" Carolyn pressed, searching through the letters for anything that might catch her eye. "Greenleaf would not let the Lost Treasure be integrated with the Templar gold."

Patrick picked up one of the letters he had yet to read as she continued to shuffle the others around. It was dated 9 June 1770. He skimmed it with intrigue.

"We're so close," Carolyn murmured, rereading one of the latest letters. "We have to be."

"Listen to this," Patrick said after a moment. Carolyn was perched on the edge of the chair as he said, "Paul Revere found a hiding place for him, separate from the Templar Treasure. Oliver didn't know where though. There's a single line here that's encoded somehow. It's a message or a riddle.

"What's it-"

_Click._

Patrick and Carolyn looked up abruptly as the door opened. Their building fearful anticipation was cut off, though, when Riley came in with Sally running over to join her brothers. Carolyn stood shakily, smiling at him despite wondering why in the world he had just shown up.

"Riley!"

She went over and enveloped his snow-covered puffy coat, kissing him. Riley looked at Patrick sheepishly, but Ben's father just gave a small smile.

"How's your shoulder?"

"Still cratered."

Tired and holding Carolyn to him for walking support, she led him over to the alcove.

"Where're Ben and Abigail?" Patrick asked.

"With Whittacre," Riley told them, removing his coat and setting it on the desk. "They need to negotiate I guess, and Abigail said to come meet up with you in the meantime."

"Negotiate what?" Carolyn asked.

Riley flung his arms out to his side lazily. "I don't know. Maddox has this pin that makes the compasses point to each other when you put it in the center axel? Abigail said that even if you figure out the next clue, it's not going to help you find the compass as easily."

Carolyn's shoulders fell. "Great."

"Well it looks like you've gotten far, though," Riley said, grabbing the desk chair and sitting beside her. "Is this everything you found on Oliver Greenleaf."

"And Paul Revere," Patrick said." The two corresponded for a while. He was trying to find Greenleaf a place to hide the Lost Treasure separate from the Templar Treasure, and before you came in, I think I found what we've been looking for."

"What is it?" Carolyn asked quickly.

"Okay, this is what is says: _'Find your pearl where the massacre rests.'_"

Patrick looked up at Carolyn, the wheels spinning fast in their heads. "What do you think it means?"

They turned to Riley at the same time, and he held up his hands.

"Don't look at me. 'Call Ben' has always been my answer."

x x x

Outside the Empress Hotel, Harper looked at the shotgun in his hand, feeling it become heavier every second that he held it.

_When did I sign up for this?_

**. Please Review .**


	10. Minutiae

**Hi everyone! I hope you're not too mad at me for the absence. I never intend on being so long with updates, but the sophomore year of college is horrendously pressing and busy. Such as, I have an English Undergrad Conference on Monday I am presenting at and should be preparing for, but I finished this instead before I got to work on my presentation. Hope you all like it, thanks for the great reviews, and keep reviewing! I feel like I'm losing people from lack of updates which is expected, but I still love getting feedback. Enjoy!**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Nine .**

"_'Find your pearl where the massacre rests?' _What's that even supposed to mean?" Riley asked, picking up one of the letters with care. "When did we start looking for a pearl?"

"No idea," Carolyn sighed. She clicked her nails boredly and looked to Patrick. "Is it a code word?"

"That's the thing about covert treasure protectors," Patrick said with a wry smile. "You never can tell." At their despondent reactions, he added as he shook the letter in his hands, "But I think I found something here."

"You mean there's more?"

Carolyn gave Riley a reprimanding glare. "Try not to sound so enthused."

"Oh, but I can't help it.. Maybe it rhymes! 'Find your pearl where the massacre rests, but if you can't, we understand; you did your best!'"

Carolyn met his cheeky grin with a stern smile of her own, mocking him. "'We're going to find compasses South and West, so perk up, sweetie, and try not to get too stressed.'" She batted her eyelashes at his sour frown, and he put the letter he was holding back on the table.

"Show-off."

"It says," Patrick interrupted, shifting forward in his chair more, "that Greenleaf was to have a look at Paul Revere's latest engraving 'for minutiae'."

Riley huffed. 'Minutiae' sounded like a bland Asian soup diluted with too much water.

"What is that?" Carolyn asked before he got the chance.

"Details. Details and information to further explain this hiding place," Patrick said. Carolyn and Riley watched his eyes grazed the letter over once more in silence, his hand coming to his mouth in thought. "We have to go to Boston."

Riley forced a rigid smile. He yearned for the warm sun of Barbados and normality to the point that it made his heart sick with longing. "Boston. Great!"

"Why there?"

"That latest engraving Paul Revere mentioned documents a very historical moment in the city of Boston's history: The Boston Massacre," Patrick said as familiarity and the connection came to his audience of two. "The date on this letter is summer 1770, a few months after the Massacre in Boston Square on March 5, 1770. Paul Revere made this engraving the most famous depiction of the event. This is what he wanted Oliver Greenleaf to find."

"That doesn't explain his riddle much," Riley said after running his hands through his damp hair, the snowflakes having melted on it. "Boston is where the massacre rests, then?"

"The 'pearl' is there," Carolyn deducted. Patrick confirmed with a concise nod.

"We need to find the engraving, probably in the Boston Massacre Historical Society right in front of Boston Square where it took place. I doubt we'll find the compass there, but it's one step closer to the next."

"We'd get even closer with that pin you mentioned," Carolyn said to Riley. "Did Abigail say to meet them anywhere after they met with Maddox?"

Riley pulled out his phone, rolling it in his hand. "Not yet. I imagine they're waiting for us to figure this out."

x x x

Ben stood silently before the lit Pennsylvania Monument with Maddox and the others nearby trying to figure out a good picture angle while waiting for news of where to go next. Ben clutched his phone in his winter coat pocket as they did their sightseeing, the gravity of guilt and anxiousness pulling on his heart.

Priscilla marched by behind Maddox in the snow, and Ben gave a short whistle. She stopped.

"Did you send him?"

She looked him up and down and eventually nodded. "I told him it was his idea," she said, inclining her head in her boss's direction.

"Alright."

"Maddox never thought you'd make such a suggestion, but he's impressed with it. Even more so that you're following through with it."

Ben nodded dizzily, his chest swelling. "Stop."

Priscilla walked away, stinging Ben with the reminder, "It was your idea."

He hung his head with a sound exhale. Abigail looked between the growing distance of the two of them as she approached her husband, shivering.

"What if they haven't figured it out by the time he gets there?"

"My dad's with them. They'll know."

"What if he does do it though? You don't know him, Ben."

He smirked, repositioning his feet in the snow. "No, but I know someone just like him."

x x x

Just then, without a knock, the hotel room door opened. Patrick, Riley, and Carolyn shot up from their chairs as they stranger stood there with a suspicious calm about him. Riley kept looking around the corner at the children, all asleep save for Alex. He felt Carolyn grip his sleeve and put an uncomfortable pressure on his bandaged shoulder.

"Who are you?"

The young man crossed the room past Patrick, sliding open the patio door and allowing wintry gusts to fill the alcove. Riley shouted at him, "I asked who you are!"

"Harper Kacy. I work for Maddox Whittacre," – Riley, Carolyn, and Patrick tensed as he took a gun from his coat and threw it outside – "and I was sent to kill you."

Carolyn's hold on Riley lessened significantly, the three of them staring at Harper. Patrick leaned out the door to see the gun lying below on the edge of the pool. He slid it closed quietly, Riley's eyes going between him and Harper. The young man with tufty red hair calmed the panic in his own eyes.

Maddox would just have to deal with it.

"He wants you two out of the way and you and the kids to come with me," he said to each respectable party. "Your friends aren't safe."

"We know that," Carolyn said, stepping out from behind Riley.

"Why should we trust you?" Patrick asked, going to pick up Alex. "You just told us you worked for Whittacre."

"Yeah, as his meteorologist on the boat," Harper replied flatly. He shrugged at their expectant faces. "I track storms, not people. And I definitely never agreed to kill anyone. I didn't sign on for _any_ of this."

An empathetic pang hit Riley as he looked the nervous man up and down. It was like the younger version of him, only braver in defying authority.

"I didn't sign on for this either," he told him softly. Slowly, Riley's defensive stance relaxed, and he tilted his head to the side. "Why did you come up here?"

"To warn you that he's going to be on a warpath when he finds out I didn't actually kill you. He wanted me to have you call Ben before I did it and then meet him there with Mr. and Mrs. Gates." He inhaled shakily, looking to Riley and Carolyn. "You two need to leave."

Carolyn chuckled. "Leave?"

"You have to. Maddox has guys on the inside of the FBI-"

"Whoa," Riley said. "Who?"

"I don't _know_, but _please_ - just do yourselves and your friends who are always within point blank range of Maddox a favor and go. You need to disappear now, before things get worse."

Riley looked to Carolyn with a raised brow. "I think we should-"

"No!"

"Carolyn, why not?!"

"Why not?! Just drop off the face of the earth and abandon them in the middle of all this? Maddox has our compasses and soon he'll have the information he needs to find the others."

"Lady," Harper interrupted, "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"You threw the gun out the window and now you're trying to threaten me."

"It was a door…" Riley mumbled.

"I'm not threatening you!"

Riley held up his hands to cease the shouting between them, placing them gently on Carolyn's shoulders. "Carolyn."

"You didn't want to be here from the start."

"Yes! Very true! I believe _you_ are partially responsible for that," he said as she rolled her eyes. He motioned to Harper and said, "_Here_ is our opportunity to go back to the Estate, finish unpacking, let my shoulder heal, get married, go to Barbados, and talk about redoing that third floor nursery."

Carolyn's head jerked up immediately. "Really?"

"Yes. Really. Don't you want to be able to _use_ that nursery someday?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Worth a shot, right?"

"No."

"Look," Harper said, "I don't know anything about this compass and Lost Treasure business if it makes you feel any better; just that he wigged out over that pin we found last week."

"That's because it is the vital piece in the whole scheme of things," Carolyn assured shortly. Harper glanced away trying to figure it out until Carolyn said, "Don't worry about how, just that it is."

Riley gave the exasperated meteorologist a look that conveyed he knew exactly how frustrated he was. "Give him a break, Carolyn. He just opted not to kill us, which was quite generous." He smiled at Harper. "Thank you, by the way."

"Don't thank me," he replied seriously, eyes strained from his nerves. He met Carolyn's dark eyes hesitantly. "I want you to be safe. That's my job, and not just where weather is concerned anymore. You have to call, and that's the last they hear from you. For a while at least."

Patrick rejoined their solemn atmosphere with Alex falling asleep in his arms. The little stuffed frog in his tiny hand fell to the floor soundlessly.

"Can't the kids just stay with them and be safe? I'll go alone."

Riley sighed. "Patrick, if you show up without them, Ben and Abigail are going to be devastated," he said gently.

"But we're going to get back in touch with them," Carolyn said.

"Yeah, but… If I ever thought for a second I'd never be able to see my kids again… I… It's just not something you put a parent through."

For the first time, Carolyn's face softened, her eyes admiring Riley beyond measure. She swallowed and nodded slowly in surrender, picking up one of Paul Revere's letters to Oliver Greenleaf from the table resolutely.

Riley smiled to himself briefly and looked up at Harper.

"What do we have to do?"

"Meet me in five minutes downstairs, and have your things in your car ready to go," Harper said, going for the door. "I'll just be a second. I need the gun."

x x x

Ben's cell phone rang, and everyone seemed to surround him in a matter of seconds. He eyed Maddox as he turned on the speaker phone and reluctantly took the call.

"Yes?"

"Don't you say hello anymore?"

"Hello, Riley."

"Hi, Ben. Listen, we made it to New Jersey just fine. I'm with Carolyn and your dad, and the kids are asleep. Are you and Abigail all right?"

"We're fine," Ben told him, looking around at the faces that surrounded him. "Did you tell them about the pin?"

"Yeah, and the compasses being connected, yeah, yeah."

Maddox was pressing into Ben with his eyes urgently. Ben cleared his throat. "Uh, Riley, have you guys figured out anything yet? Clue-wise?"

"Your dad and Carolyn found a hoard of letters to Oliver Greenleaf from Paul Revere in that library after the Liberty Tree meeting in Dorchester."

Ben's eyes lit up. "Paul Revere?"

"He found a hiding place for the Lost Treasure. In one of the letters he told Greenleaf to see his 'world famous' engraving of the Boston Massacre for minooshi."

"Minutiae," Carolyn's voice corrected from the background.

"Whatever. Mishu, Mi-nu-ti-ae-"

"Details!"

"Oh yeah, details," Riley repeated. "Details for where to go after that."

Ben nodded. "Boston, then."

"Yeah," Riley confirmed. Maddox's smile spread like wildfire.

"There's also this little phrase on that same letter about the engraving that says," – they heard him get the letter – "'_Find your pearl where the massacre rests.'_ Your dad said it's obviously Boston, and that _pearl_ is some kind of code word or clue reference. We're going to leave tomorrow morning and head up there. Where do you want us to meet you guys?"

Ben made a face. "What?"

"Ben, come on. Don't tell me you weren't going to bring Mr. Roanoke. He's probably listening right now."

"Yes, I am," Maddox said, leaning toward the phone.

"Yeah, see? Hi, everyone. Your dad just said meeting at that Massacre Museum would be best. We'll-"

Suddenly, a gunshot came.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

Ben and the others started as screams came over the other end frantically. Maddox's face was serene.

"Riley! RILEY!"

Another came, silencing the uproar. A long dial tone followed.

Abigail's hands flew up to her mouth, a breathless "No" rushing from her when she turned to her husband. Priscilla was immobile as well, her face losing more color than it normally had. Ben stared at Maddox terror-stricken, but his only response was a furrowed brow.

"Didn't know Harper had it in him," he admitted, straightening up. Ben looked impacted so that he was calmly building up a rage of disbelief, ready to beat him into the snow continuously. Maddox sighed with the slightest apologetic intonation. He seemed as genuinely shocked as Ben.

"Guess you did see potential in him I didn't. Ah. Well. To, uh, to Boston, yeah?"

Abigail's face twisted with anger beyond recognition. "You bastard."

Maddox's eyebrows shot up. "No no, Mrs. Gates, _you_ bastards," he said, walking away. "Was all your idea."

"Ben."

She saw his eye shine like glass on the profile of his stony face. Without word, he took the first heavy step forward.

He couldn't blame anyone but himself.

x x x

Cheeks flaming from the cold and the anger-guilt, Riley ripped the battery out of the back of his phone and chucked it across the tall grass of the dark field. His injured shoulder burned even though he had not used it; he bit his bottom lip as the phone itself now sailed away in the opposite direction. Carolyn had stepped on hers and ground it into the soft snowy mud with her boot, still deeply regretting the decision as silence grew around them once more. Riley took the letter in his hand and gently refolded it, putting it back inside his coat.

Harper lowered the gun from the sky. He handed it to Riley.

"Whyyyy give this to me?" he asked, reaching for it slowly.

Carolyn swiped it from Harper quickly and secured it in the back of her jeans. Riley stared; he kept forgetting she was half a professional with guns, and he'd rather, to be honest.

"Just take it," Harper said. "Protect yourselves. I'm never going to use it."

"Protect ourselves? We've just been killed, remember?" Riley asked.

Harper shrugged. "Just in case." Seeing Carolyn's face directed longingly at his car, he said, "I'll make sure they're okay. I don't drive fast or anything."

She smiled at him. Hard as it was, she held out her hand. "Thank you."

Harper shook it cordially. "You're welcome." Carolyn stepped back as he shook Riley's next. "When you get your new phones, put me in immediately."

"You got it," Riley said. He followed Carolyn toward the road, turning and walking backwards as he shouted back to the younger man. "Hey, Harper!"

"Yeah?"

"If you get the chance, do me a favor?"

"What?"

Riley slowed somewhat, meeting his gaze and wetting his dry lips. Then he stopped altogether.

"Tell… Tell Ben I'm sorry. You know. If you can?"

Harper didn't understand but nodded sincerely. "I'll get him the message."

Riley inhaled shakily, taking a few more steps backwards. "Thanks." And he turned back around to go.

x x x

Harper watched them get in their car and spin gravel and snow to get back on the road from the middle of the field still. The car sped away after passing the one with Ben's father and children in it that he was driving back to Maddox.

Speaking of...

Harper hit a button on his phone and brought it to his ear. He picked up instantly.

"I heard some of the show," he said, humor subdued. "Can I get a play-by-play analysis?"

"I got Patrick and the three kids. He says to go to Boston."

"Great," Maddox said. "I got to hear Poole and Carolyn tell Ben himself right before you made your grand entrance. Quite a screamer from what I heard."

Harper shut his eyes at his boss's chuckle. His heart pounded uncomfortably. "Where do want me to take them?"

"Boston Massacre Historical Society. Tomorrow afternoon around two."

"How do I get there?"

"You're a weatherman for god's sake, Mr. Kacy; you love maps. Google it if you have to."

x x x

Joseph Myers was not akin to his predecessor, the late Peter Sadusky. That guy was a friend of Ben Gates, willing to give him a break every so often, and look where it got him: lying face down in the historian's backyard with a bullet in his back. No, Joseph Myers knew that if an FBI agent were to favor anyone, it would be the man with the upper hand and the one whose enemies weren't partial to using guns when confrontation arose.

Maddox didn't have much power yet, but he was on his way. Myers could respect that since he was the son of his old friend, and according to legal documentation, his godchild. He also paid loyalty well since his father passed away, but somehow Maddox made it clear that he was not as corrupt as he seemed. His heart was still in finding out the mystery of the Lost Colonists, and the only way to do so was by way of this Lost Treasure.

Something like that anyways. Myers was never one for history.

Be he could learn to love it as much as Maddox and Gates put together if paid properly.

"I'm still wondering why you won't have us arrest Gates yet," he said over the phone from his office to Maddox. "He'd be out of your way, he's robbed a national bank-"

"Yes, but I burned down his house and practically kidnapped him, so we're even as of now. He's telling me the descendants of the colonists are the Sons of Liberty which is a fascinating cover-up. There's a lot more here involving later Colonial America than I thought, so he and his father are going to help us with that. Paul Revere is suddenly making an appearance, and god knows who else next."

"How does this prove anything?"

"_Descendants_, Joseph! If the Lost Colonists actually survived, they would have _descendants, _and they would have hidden the treasure! You can't very well have dead people hiding a treasure, now can you?"

Myers took a drink from his coffee mug. "Others could have found it and moved it, Maddox."

"No, they were too protective of it. Their first mission failed and they wanted to prove to the Queen that they were trustworthy enough to expand her reign and protect the gold. All the signs point to an abandonment of the colony, Joseph, and the treasure went with them."

"And if it was left and taken by natives?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to disprove. They moved it themselves, and their great-great-grandchildren in the Revolution came to the forefront again as Sons of Liberty, chatted with the Masons, said no thanks, but we'll keep our gold separate, and now we're getting somewhere."

"Where would that be?"

"Boston. Paul Revere gave a letter to a descendant of the Lost Colonists offering him a hiding spot for the treasure. This is where I'm going to need Gates and why you can't arrest him."

Myers sighed. If he said so…

"What about his band of followers?"

"Carolyn Howe and her fiancé are out of the picture."

"I thought you needed her?"

"Well, for the compass. Now that I've got it, she's not much use unless we need a paintbrush. Priscilla has a few of those lying around herself, though. More talented anyway. She painted the name on the boat."

"So you've mentioned. A few times."

"Really? It couldn't've been that many."

A smile came to Myers. "She's going to elsewhere if you don't suck it up soon, boy."

"I have another call to take, Myers."

"Of course," he said knowingly. "Call me should the occasion call for it."

"Will do."

Myers put the phone down, his forehead finding the palm of his hand. There was no talking to him about anything, let alone Roanoke.

x x x

Dust hung suspended in the sunbeams that poured onto the dark blue-grey carpet from the heavy, parted curtains, the golden pendulum of the grandfather clock catching the bright gleam of the early morning sun each time it swung. The untouched stillness was intruded on then with the opening of the front door, large and white. Riley kicked the snow from his boots before entering quickly with a suitcase in hand and duffel around his shoulder. Carolyn came in wordlessly after him, having no motivation whatsoever to shut the door. She looked at the leg of the coffee table being skirted by the sunlight as Riley dropped the bags with a loud sigh. He rolled his shoulder.

"I don't think I've ever been happier to be in this place."

Carolyn didn't look up.

_"I'm really getting sick of you running off," Ian said as they came in, ripping is hat from his head and sending feathery snowflakes everywhere. "They send me to find you, and hell, I'm mad enough to oblige."_

_Carolyn tore her boots off hotly. "Why? You could just say you never found me."_

"_And give your seventeen-year-old self the pleasure? Come now, dearest, there are crueler men out there than here. They might corner you in a dark alley."_

_She shoved him back into the door to his surprise as she passed. "I live here. I think I can manage a dark alley."_

Riley's smile died off at her begrudging silence. She hadn't said much during their four-hour road trip back to this place. He was willing to call Ian's house his 'home' just to get them out of the mess they were involved in, but the satisfaction he had hoped he would be feeling long ago when they left the field hadn't come at all.

He was rid of Ben, rid of Whittacre, rid of all this ridiculous history and treasure stuff.

Free to live peacefully and get married, start a family and retire early. Buy a small country.

Yet as he looked at her tired body leaning against the wall, her eyes far off, he knew he wasn't going to be rid of anything regarding this Roanoke treasure for a long time.

"Go lie down," he suggested gently. "I'll bring the rest of the stuff in. I'll get lunch-"

"Leave mine in the car."

Riley stopped next to her in the doorway, meeting her eyes for the first time in what seemed eternity. She still had haze in hers from the lack of sleep and overabundance of stress, but behind it was her persistence and Ian's quiet rage.

Ian. She was doing this because of him.

Even in death he managed to put their lives in an unwanted whirlwind.

The most undeserving of people.

Carolyn winced slightly. Riley reached for her. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"Nothing you aren't experiencing. Headache, tired, hungry."

"You're making yourself dizzy from all this," he said, easing her to the floor. Her back slid down the wall until it met the baseboard. He sat beside her as she hid her face in her hand. Riley stared at the suitcase and duffel bag in front of them. He looked at the diamond on her finger, trying to block everything from his memory. He had to before he asked, "Rest a day and then we'll go?"

She shook her head. "We have to at least follow them. They could be out of Boston by tonight."

Riley sighed, falling back into the wall more.

"Airport it is."

x x x

There was not a trace of snow anywhere in the city of Boston, making that March 5th perfectly nice for the reenactment of the Boston Massacre. Abigail looked out of a window in the Boston Massacre Historical Society's Museum at the actors preparing for their celebrated show in the street as Maddox's voice broke over them.

"Mr. Kacy, Mr. Gates, great to see you. Children."

She turned. Her children were rubbing the sleep from their eyes but were otherwise unharmed. The anxiety in her heart was released as she ran over to them. Ben approached, staring down Harper as he took Alex from his father. Harper felt ill with this necessary misunderstanding.

"Alright, no tussling, Ben," Maddox said with an intonation that sickly reminded him of Ian as he walked up to him. He smiled at Alex warmly despite Ben's eyes strongly discouraging interaction with his son.

"Oh, you're a big boy!" Maddox said, making Alex look at him with his big eyes. "You look just like your dad. Maybe your mom's nose."

"Stop talking to him," Ben said shortly.

"Dad! Is that the Roanoke Man?" Charlie asked from his mother's side. Sally got excited at his mention and said, "Wow! Cool! Did you find the treasure yet?"

"No, sweetheart," Maddox laughed. "But with your dad's help, I'm going to."

"Dad's found _two_ treasures," Sally said. "Uncle Riley helped him, too."

The room tensed, and Charlie inevitably spoke of him and Carolyn.

"Where are Uncle Riley and Carolyn?"

Patrick forced a smile to his grandson. "I told you in the car, Charlie, they just aren't here yet. We'll see them later."

"Oooh. Hi, Mr. Whittacre! I'm Charlie. I like your boat!"

"Me, too!" Sally said. "Can we ride on it? Please?"

Maddox grinned sideways at Ben and Abigail, feeling their hatred crushing him from both sides. He crouched before the twins, Abigail protectively putting her arms around their shoulders more.

"You can ride on it anytime you like. But first, we have to look at this picture very closely for another clue in our treasure hunt," he said, nodding to Paul Revere's famous engraving on the wall behind them amongst several other works. He held out his hands to the two children. "Deal?"

"Deal!" Charlie said, the two each shaking one of his hands with both of their small ones.

Maddox rose. "Great! You two are the most charming kids I've ever met. And I've met lots of kids!"

"Where is this message on the engraving?" Patrick suddenly asked loudly, silencing the room. Maddox swallowed under his threatening demeanor, looking at Priscilla's tight face and then the engraving.

"It's on the back. I could use some help from everyone."

Everyone slowly moved forward towards the portrait except for Harper. He endured another hateful look from Ben before Maddox barked at him, "Harper! If you're not going to help us, at least stand at the door!" He obeyed, stiffly crossing the room past the children.

"Careful," Abigail cautioned as they lifted the original chipped frame from the wall. She, Ben, Priscilla, and Maddox lifted it evenly, a stale scent rushing out from behind it. Maddox glanced at the wooden back to make sure he had a good hold. However, he did a double take, noticing a fine stream of words running through his fingers.

"Hey, it's on the back here!"

"What?"

"Yeah, have a look! Ease it down. Priscilla, step back and get the top edge of it."

"What does it say?" Abigail asked once it was suspended in their hands horizontally. Maddox leaned close to it, the scrawls faded to the point that they could almost not be seen.

"'_Find your pearl where the massacre rests._' Just what the letter did."

"There's another line," Ben said, spotting its faint presence below the first.

"There is. _'Polybius Square.'"_

"Where's that?" Priscilla asked.

"Got me," Ben said. "I've never even heard of the place."

**. Please Review .**


	11. Polybius Square

**Oh wow, does college keep me busy or what? My friend and I were watching NT2 the other night because he had never seen it, and it made me feel really bad about not writing this in a while, and so I felt obligated to overcome some roadblocks I've had with this story lately, particularly in a future chapter with finding a cipher that's never been used in the movies or my stories so far. I checked four books out of library for research! As for now, enjoy!**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Ten .**

"You know, even if we do find this little piggy bank of treasure and I'm not exponentially richer," Riley said as he and Carolyn walked along the Freedom Trail lazily, "I'm going to have the body of a god from all this running around."

Carolyn looked him up and down, the early afternoon sun's brightness reflecting off the windows of the building around them. "Good. Because you're horribly unattractive. I'm just marrying you for the money."

"I knew it."

They laughed, Riley pausing in front of the Boston Massacre Historical Society's Museum.

"Stop numero uno on the Freedom Trail-"

"It's actually number eleven of thirteen," Carolyn said, waving a pamphlet at him. "But considering we're going backwards-"

"Numbers aside, Riley the God needs a restroom."

She smirked. "Gods use the restroom?"

x x x

He left Carolyn in one of the rooms that had the life stories of all the victims of the Massacre, her inner artist attracted immediately to the portraits, paintings, and sketches. Riley looked around for a sign to the restroom, found it, and in doing so, became paralyzed – Ben, Maddox, Patrick, and Harper were walking right towards him.

Panicked, Riley pushed into the restroom passed someone, flew into the first stall, and swung the door shut loudly, his hand still on the lock. He heard the only other person in the restroom shut off the sink and open the door to leave, but footsteps and soft, familiar voices entered. Riley put his feet up on the toilet seat as Maddox's shiny black shoes went up and down the length stalls in silence before saying, "Now where is this square?"

"I have never heard of it," Ben said. He looked to his father. "Was there a place named Polybius Square that was renamed at some time? Something to do with Roanoke, Paul Revere, the Sons?"

Riley leaned forward. _Polybius Square_?

"Nothing I know of, son."

"Mr. Kacy, would you happen to know? As much time as you spend with maps?"

"No. And my lack of historical knowledge doesn't help."

"Then you can search for it, I'm sure," Maddox said. He leaned on the sink, smiling between the meteorologist and Ben. "Shame. I bet your Riley could have found it for us."

Riley suddenly didn't recognize Ben's low, gritted voice; he sounded like a junkyard dog having been kicked one too many times. "I thought you were a man of your word?"

"Yes," Maddox said respectfully, looking down at his clasped hands. "I am sorry."

"Don't let it happen again," Harper said boldly.

Riley grew nervous in the silence that followed, pulling out his new cell phone without a sound. Thankfully, Patrick spoke.

"Well, think! Revere's engraving had the same line from the letter to Greenleaf with a possible location listed under it. It must be somewhere here in the city. We'll stop at the Boston Library. Come on."

The group followed him out slowly. "With all that history in your heads combined, I'm astonished you two have no idea where this place is," Maddox commented.

Hearing their voices pass out of the doorway and earshot, Riley relaxed into the wall and let his feet fall back to the floor, the gears in his head suddenly shifting.

x x x

"We don't know everything," Ben continued out in the lobby where Abigail waited with Priscilla and the children. "if I did, I wouldn't need you, and if you did, you wouldn't need me."

"It's a documented place, though!" Maddox pressed. "You mean to tell me that no one's ever heard of this Polybius Square except Paul Revere and Oliver Greenleaf?"

"It could be a code," Patrick offered. "It may have stood for a different place."

"Like where?"

"Ben, look at this."

Abigail held her phone up to her husband. He took it slowly, reading the message sent as Maddox, Priscilla, and his father gathered behind him. He blinked, comparing the times on the message and his wristwatch; it had just been sent.

"Who's number is this?"

"I don't know."

Ben handed her back the phone, looking around the crowded room. He nodded to the door. "Let's go. Abigail, don't let anything happen to that message."

She locked it, staring at it uneasily.

_'Polybius Square isn't a place.'_

x x x

"It's not?"

"No," Riley said, racing across the busy street with Carolyn, "it's a cipher."

"What?"

Riley pulled her into a side street and stopped, retrieving the Oliver Greenleaf letter from his pocket. "Patrick said that the same line from the letter was on the back of the Paul Revere engraving with _'Polybius Square'_ under it. The Polybius Square is a cipher that combines substitution with transposition," he explained, pulling out a pen and grabbing a napkin from a nearby café table. "It looks like this."

And he drew it quickly:

**0 1 2 3 4 5 **

**1** A B C D E

**2** F G H I/J K

**3 **L M N O P

**4 **Q R S T U

**5** V W X Y Z

"The cipher uses numbers to encipher a word or phrase, kind of like the Playfair Cipher. The two are similar, seeing as the Playfair Cipher uses the Polybius Square as the basis of its coding."

"How are they different?"

"The layout of coded words and how they are coded. Playfair Ciphers use pairs of letters separated into individual pairs; Polybius Square is a long unbroken string of numbers," he said, taking her hand again and leading her up the street. "I'll explain more when we get to the Granary Burying Ground. Stop number four of thirteen, right?"

"Why?"

"It's where the massacre rests."

x x x

Carolyn understood it now – the victims of the Boston Massacre were buried at the Granary Burying Ground, and the clue was there, somehow encoded with this Polybius Cipher. What she didn't understand was Riley's sudden change of attitude. He was eager to figure it out, running in front of cars and tripping over cracks in the sidewalk to get there. When they reached the Burying Ground out of breath, Carolyn followed Riley suspiciously.

"What's got you so excited about this?"

"I am one step ahead of Ben," he said without hesitation, scanning the headstones for a signifying mark of some kind. "If I get this figured out before him, not only can I gloat, but I can prevent him from continuing."

"Why? I have a feeling that will only make Maddox upset if Ben has nothing to figure out for him."

"No, this will save him and everyone else. Not having a treasure to find will do him some good. I'm going to destroy that compass when I find it."

Carolyn's eyes narrowed. "Not if I find it!"

"It's for your own good, too."

"Since when did you start caring about our 'own good' by doing the very thing that _isn't_ for our own good? You're actively participating in the treasure hunt!"

"But my intentions are to destroy, not advocate."

"Riley-!"

"Wait, wait! Right here!"

Carolyn swallowed the anger on the tip of her tongue with a low growl, crouching next to the gravestone dedicated to the five victims of the Boston Massacre as Riley examined it for any numbers. After a thorough check, they turned up nothing.

"But this is it," Riley said, sitting back on his heels. His shoulders slumped. "This is where the victims of the massacre are buried. Maybe the numbers wore off?"

Carolyn's eyes grew. "What if it's not talking about the victims of the massacre? Perhaps the _artist_ of the _Massacre?_"

Riley got to his feet, dusting off his pants. "Where is he?"

"He's right over here."

x x x

"Are you sure I can't help you with something?" the librarian asked, approaching the large group of ten people surrounding one computer. The oldest gentlemen looked back and said, "If you don't know what Polybius Square is, then no."

She was somewhat speechless, but tried to remain polite. "Maybe I can locate you a book-"

"No time!" another man in sunglasses said, waving her off.

The blonde woman next to the man on the computer suddenly pointed at the screen. "There! Polybius Square, named for Ancient Greek historian and scholar, Polybius."

The librarian huffed. She put on a stony expression and hardened her voice. "No more than one person is allowed at a computer. That is my final say, or you are all going to be asked to leave."

They ignored her, hovering over the computer, reading. Half a moment later, the man in the sunglasses leaned over the man in the chair for a closer look.

"That explains it!" he exclaimed as they all got up, smiles on their faces. "It's a code!"

The librarian stamped her foot loudly, fists at her sides. "Shh!

"Print that out! We need it!"

"For heaven's sake, OUT!"

Grabbing the page from the nearby printer, they filed passed her, each incurring a particularly snide look. The little boy looked up at her.

"I said go."

"Shhh," he whispered. "You can't yell in the liberry."

The old librarian stiffened, blinking at the boy and his father as their group left.

x x x

"There it is."

Riley and Carolyn ran over to the gravestone; a rectangular prism standing on its end with a square slab capping it. The stone read:

_PAUL REVERE_

_BORN_

_IN BOSTON_

_JANUARY 1734_

_DIED_

_MAY 1818_

"What are we looking for again?" Carolyn asked as they examined the gravestone. Riley poked his head around the back side of the tall portion of the marker, brushing some dead leaves and dirt from the base slabs.

"A string-"

"I found it!"

Riley looked up, joining her at the right side of the gravestone. "That fast?"

"Yes. Right there."

On the square stone that sat atop the memorial, Riley spotted it – a string of ten numbers in the lower right corner. He smiled, pulling out the pen and napkin and quickly writing it down as Carolyn took a picture of it with her phone.

3114355121

"It would really suck if this were someone's social security number," Riley laughed to himself. As he finished, Carolyn leaned over and asked, "How do you do it?"

"Each number is a row or column. A lot of people will make the mistake of deciphering it like the Playfair Cipher by separating them into pairs like this."

31 14 35 51 21

"But if you do that and figure that each of the first letters corresponds with the row and the second letters are columns, you're going to get jibberish."

**R **3 1 3 5 2

**C** 1 4 5 1 1

- _L D P V F_

"And that's wrong. You find divide the number of letters in the ciphered message by two-"

31143 55121

"- and set them one on top of the other, and voila."

**R **3 1 1 4 3

**C **5 5 1 2 1

- _ P E A R L_

Carolyn's face illuminated, Riley smiling triumphantly at her.

"We've found our pearl."

"Brilliant," she said breathlessly. She rose to her knees with Riley filled with adrenaline, the two of them looking at the top stone curiously. Carolyn gave it a small push, feeling it give just the slightest.

"Here," she said, repositioning herself, "help me."

With a few grunts and hard pushes, Riley and Carolyn were able to slide the top stone minimally. Carolyn ran to the other side and began to pull as Riley pushed, and finally, something began to appear.

"Keeping going- Ah!"

The slab slid effortlessly then into Carolyn's arms, and stumbled backwards in surprise. Riley jumped up as she eased it against the gravestone. She watched his lips thin in annoyance; there, inset in the top center of the big rectangular stone, was another compass.

She glanced sideways at Riley, and he did the same. From that moment of stillness, a short melee broke out as they both grabbed for the compass. Carolyn won the tug of war in the end, holding the compass close. Riley sighed.

"We're not treasure hunting anymore!"

"I am."

"Finder's, keeper's," he said, unsuccessfully reaching around her for it.

"You may have found it, but I am using it."

He groaned, walking away while she inspected the compass. There was, as on the other two, a giant letter on the bottom of the compass, this one 'S' to signify 'South.' It seemed more durable than the others, more solid woodwork and assembly. Then, between the four nails on the bottom, she saw four lines and grinned.

"The next part of the riddle."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

_Treated war to set the pace_

_Over an ocean to find but a trace_

Her mind started picking out things right away. 'Set' and 'ocean' - The sun sets in the west. The element of West is water. They were still on track.

Discreetly, Carolyn tore a piece off her Freedom Trail pamphlet and began to write the riddle down, folding it as small as possible. She glanced over her shoulder at Riley as he struggled to put the square slab back on top of the gravestone.

"I- oh, come on."

"What?"

Carolyn came over and looked into the perfect circle inset in the rectangular stone where the compass had rested. Engraved at the bottom were six letters- J J C K P N.

"Lovely," Riley commented as Carolyn pulled out her phone to take another picture. "Now Ben will still have something to go off. Hopefully without the riddle he'll be thrown off and just quit so he doesn't die."

"You're so loving," she chuckled, pocketing her phone. "Even when you're bitter."

"I have reason," he deadpanned with a nod to his injured shoulder. "God, this thing stings. I think when you jabbed it with the tweezers you did more damage than the bullet did."

Ignoring him, she helped him set the stone straight and rubbed her hands on her pants. "Come on, Crypto. We have another cipher on our hands, I'm sure."

x x x

"What are you doing to Paul Revere?!"

Abigail gave a small laugh and patted Sally's shoulder as Ben, Maddox, and Harper removed the square stone atop the silversmith's grave marker.

"Paul Revere isn't in the stone, honey; he's under it, in the ground."

"Oh."

"More letters," she heard Ben say before circling around the stone with everyone else. She watched Priscilla pull out a small notebook from her bag and started writing down the six letters engraved in the stone as Maddox touched the inset.

"There was one here."

Patrick's hand squeezed through, his eyes focused on a small colorful paper in the circle inset. The others watched him unfold the glossy paper as he looked over at the pamphlet Harper was holding. "_Just_ here, too, from the looks of it."

Maddox's mind flared as Ben read aloud the next part of the riddle on the paper. He stepped away from the group, scanning the graveyard with anger rushing hot out of his nose. Then – what luck – he spotted them sitting across the street on the stairs of a building washed in sunlight, the compass in their hands.

"Maddox, where are you going?"

His hand slipped into his coat as he crossed the brick pathway. When Ben and the others followed his line of sight, their hearts dropped. Ben felt the wind knocked out of him and briefly smiled; they were alive.

"You don't follow orders very well, Mr. Kacy!" Maddox bellowed, revealing his gun now as he continued to walk right for them.

Harper felt faint. "Oh no."

As the rest hurried off from the gravestone, Ben put a hand on Harper's shoulder and said, "Thank you for that."

"Not a problem, but it's about to be!"

Maddox was forty feet away. Abigail's scream pierced through the chilly air.

"RILEY! LOOK OUT!"

Riley and Carolyn exchanged a confused look before jumping up in panic when they saw Maddox coming at them with a gun, the rest of the group coming up fast behind him. Carolyn screamed as he fired. Riley stuffed the compass deep in his coat, grabbed her, and ran for the street.

"Stop!"

Maddox turned around to fire at Ben's voice, but Ben was quicker, hitting him in the side of the face and knocking him to the ground. He stepped on his hand to free the gun as Maddox held his jaw, but then a large rock collided with Ben's hand. He cried out in pain, dropping the gun, and clutching his paralyzed hand. He immediately began running as Priscilla came to Maddox's aid.

She picked up his gun, kneeling beside him as he sat up on his elbows. "Are you alright?"

"For God's sake, woman, he didn't hit me that hard."

She held back a smile, helping him to his feet. "Come on."

x x x

"This is bad," Riley said as he and Carolyn tore through the streets. "Bad, bad, bad-! Wait!"

He stopped instantly, Carolyn slamming into his back. He pressed her against the side of the building as a group of police cars passed with their sirens blaring. He rested his head on the bricks, panting.

"I told you not to sit there!" Carolyn whispered. "You send Ben a message leading him right to the gravestone and think he won't see us?"

"I didn't tell him where to go-"

"It's Ben! You might as well have!"

"This is not my- AH!"

"Shh! Listen!"

Ben uncovered their mouths, peering around the corner.

"Ben, you have to stop! You weren't supposed to actually figure it out!"

"What?"

"The text! The Polybius Square! You weren't supposed to know that! We took the compass to end your search-"

"Do you still have it?"

"Yes," Carolyn said before Riley could lie. Ben nodded, motioning them to the corner when he saw Abigail waiting across the street.

"Great. Let's go."

"I'm not going!"

Just then, Priscilla fired a gun from behind them, narrowly missing Carolyn. Riley's eyes went wide before bolting out into the street with Ben and Carolyn.

"Okay! I'm coming!"

x x x

"Maddox, they're in the train station."

"Great. Call Harper and tell him to get around-"

"Harper's not answering."

Maddox rolled his eyes, following a crowd of people through the lobby of South Station when he spotted them again. "Pathetic rain man… Look, forget it. Just don't let Patrick Gates get away."

x x x

Screams. Gunfire.

Ben looked back as the people of the station scattered. Maddox was hot in pursuit, his speed just as alarming as the fury of his eye. He pushed Carolyn to the side, redirecting their path.

"Get on the train!"

Abigail, at the front of the group, came to halt at the train's entrance where a conductor stood with his hand up. "No running on the platform! Where are your tickets?"

Another gunshot sent more scream echoing off the station walls. The conductor fell back, startled at the sound. Riley pointed at Maddox frantically.

"Is that ticket enough for you?!"

They pushed onto the train, but Riley was suddenly pulled back.

"No!" Carolyn reached for him, but Maddox had the gun's barrel burning into the fresh bullet wound in his shoulder from days before, its heat searing his wound until he cried out. He looked up dizzily at Ben, Abigail, and Carolyn frozen in the doorway of the train. Maddox smiled.

"Look what I've got, Ben," he taunted. "Riley Poole, back from the dead. Not a problem; I told you that Harper wouldn't do the job. 'Send some else. Do it yourself.' Or perhaps Mr. Kacy did and just didn't kill them as good as he thought."

Ben felt Riley and Carolyn staring at him as Maddox nodded.

"Oh, that's right. He didn't see the point in keeping you around if you were just going to stop him from getting his treasure-"

"That's a lie!" Ben said, jumping from the train.

"Is it? It's what you told me. And from the look of the tiger in Riley's eyes here wanting to pounce on you and tear you to shreds, I think he believes me. He's been rather mean to you, hasn't he, Riley?"

The whistle on the train blew. Finally, Ben hit Maddox for the second time that day, grabbing Riley and passing him to Abigail and Carolyn on the train. He climbed aboard immediately as it began to move out of the station, Maddox getting to his feet with a bloody nose and smile as he walked alongside the train.

"If you doubt me, Mr. Poole, remember that betrayal is the only truth that sticks!" He waved at the end of the platform, smug and satisfied. "See at the end of the line!"


	12. Ratify

**Back from the dead? Well, visiting! I wanted to get some kind of writing done before I leave for another summer at camp, so I chose to update this since my PotC story got all the attention last May before I left. I know it's been forever, but I'm still updating, aren't I? :) I hope everyone has a fabulous summer ahead of them! Enjoy the update!  
**

_- Dis/Claimer –_

**x x x**

**. Chapter Eleven .**

There were two kinds of darkness that marred two kinds of vision.

Riley had physically experienced one sensation more than a few times - blackness spotting the corners of his eyes until he fell unconscious, no longer able to see. This happened notably from flying off a swing, a party during his sophomore year of college, falling to his near death in an underground cavern, and, more recently, being shot by Benjamin Gates.

Then, there was this. This mental fixation that slowly leaked like a thick tar over reason and rationale, their vices smoldering in his sharp, distant eyes. Time moved in that it was measured by purpose; everything was and was not. Riley walked down the narrow aisle of the sleek train car with an unfamiliar heated calm lifting his posture as the veins under his jawbone pulsed.

Abigail's body disappeared into the wall of the train, Ben and Carolyn following. Riley stepped into the empty compartment last, the smell of fresh upholstery annoying him further. He sat between Carolyn and the door as they pulled out the new compass immediately, all unaware of him emitting a troubling silence.

"It's gorgeous," Abigail breathed as Carolyn handed it to her. She turned it over with the utmost care her hands had shown hundreds of historical artifacts, and a shapely "S" glowed in the amber light from the window. She traced its smooth curves with her finger. "That gravestone must have sealed perfectly for this kind of preservation."

Ben pointed to the words along the bottom's edge. "The next riddle." He quickly pulled a bit of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. "I've already figured out most of it from what you left, but I just want to make sure the words are all correct."

_Treated war to set the pace  
Over an ocean to find but a trace_

Carolyn looked over at Riley's stony face and rolled her eyes. "I wasn't going to _not_ leave the riddle for them."

He was opting not to participate in conversation. Carolyn finally shook her head and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees to better see the South compass. Ben's eyes jumped from the piece of pamphlet to the compass once more before he was satisfied that they were identical.

"You figured everything out already?" Carolyn asked.

"In the riddle, yes," Ben said, now tapping another part of the piece of paper. "We still have these six encoded letters to figure out: J J C K P N. Riley?"

Ben's attempt at a friendly smile faded when he looked up at Riley. His arms were folded tight over his chest, eyebrows deep, hard, and furious. Swallowing, Ben sat back and passed the crumb of paper to Abigail, continuing to feel Riley's unnerving gaze scrape into his skin.

"What do you know about the riddle?" Carolyn asked, trying to permeate the strained silence.

Ben took the compass in both of his hands. "The references to the direction West are apparent – 'set' and 'ocean'. 'Treated war' is a war that ended with a treaty, likely one that involved the Sons of Liberty. A war that 'set the pace' for the life of a new nation 'over an ocean' – the Revolutionary War."

"The Revolutionary War ended with the Treaty of Paris in 1783," Abigail said, turning to her cell phone. "To find the next compass, it will have to do with this document. Its location, its text-"

"Where is the original Treaty of Paris from 1783?" Carolyn asked. "It's not in Paris, is it?"

Ben fell back into the comfortable blue seating with a sigh, running one of his palms over his thigh. "No. No, the treaty was signed in Paris, which, it might be possible that we'd have to go to Hotel d'York. But there were three originals: one to England and two to the United States."

"Both of ours reside in the National Archives," Abigail provided. She showed them the image she had accessed on her phone. "One is signed with the wax seals vertically, and the other, shown here, has them arranged horizontally."

Carolyn examined the picture of the seals with a small smile. The four bright red circles were linked together with what looked to be a green ribbon. More proof that they were connected and, more importantly, that they were still on track.

"So, now what? Do we look at the text? The seals?" she asked, handing the phone back to Abigail before tying her hair back in a ponytail.

"I'm not sure," Ben said, removing his coat, "but if we can decode that word, I have a feeling we'll be pointed in the right direction. It didn't look like a transposition cipher. I'd try substitution if anything."

"And we'd need a specific word or letter to decipher it," Abigail said. "Is there any paper lying around?"

x x x

Four hours later, the train passed through New York City. Riley remained tightly coiled in his shadowed seat as the others diligently scribbled through a legal pad trying to decipher the six letters. By now, they knew better than to ask him for anything, let alone his help.

But it was too late for forgiveness.

Without word, Riley rose from his seat, opened the compartment door, and stepped outside. When the door slid shut, Carolyn and Abigail looked up, both of them surprised to see that Ben did not.

"Where is he going?" Abigail asked quietly. Carolyn shrugged. She set her pencil and paper in the spot where Riley had been, ready to go after him when Ben said "I've got it."

x x x

Riley walked nearly the entire length of the train until he found a compartment with opaque windows. He slipped inside, drawing the shades over the windows on either side of him.

He looked down at the phone in his hand and gripped it tightly, bringing it to his forehead as he took several long, silent breaths.

_What are you doing? Just do it. No more of this. God, what are you doing?_

He hit TALK and brought the phone to his ear, biting his lip and pinching his eyes shut.

x x x

"What is it?" Abigail asked as their three heads crowded over the papers spilling off Ben's lap in the small, lit compartment. He unfolded the entire sheet of paper he had been working on.

"It was encoded with what is called the Vinegére cipher. It's a simple polyalphabetic substitution method of coding, meaning it goes through several Caesar cipher-type shifts. This is the Vinegére Square."

. .A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

**A** A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

**B** B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A

**C** C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B

**D** D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C

**E** E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D

**F** F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E

**G** G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F

**H** H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G

**I** I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H

**J** J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I

**K** K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J

**L** L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K

**M** M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L

**N** N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M

**O** O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N

**P** P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O

**Q** Q R S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P

**R** R S T U V W X Y Z A B C E D F G H I J K L M N O P Q

**S **S T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R

**T **T U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S

**U **U V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T

**V **V W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U

**W **W X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V

**X **X Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W

**Y **Y Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X

**Z **Z A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y

"After trying a number of words and letters that might be relevant, the letter 'S'" – he turned the new compass over – "made our six letters," - he circled J J C K P N at the top of the page - "spell out the word 'ratify'.

"If you find the letter 'S' on the top of the Square and the 'R' for 'ratify' along the side, you'll see that they intersect at J. Then, you intersect J and the 'A' of 'ratify' and get the second J. So on and so forth."

S – R: J

J – A: J

J – T: C

C – I: K

K – F: P

P – Y: N

Carolyn nodded. "Incredible. What does 'ratify' mean then?"

"Well, the Treaty of Paris 1783 was ratified in 1784," Abigail began.

"January 14, 1784," Ben said. "Ratification Day. It was brought into law by the Congress of the Confederation at our then nation's capital, Annapolis, Maryland. They held the meeting in the Old Senate Chamber of the Maryland Statehouse-"

The compartment door opened, and Riley sat down wordlessly despite the three sets of eyes staring at him. He picked up one of the pieces of paper Carolyn had been trying to decipher the code on, glanced over it indifferently, and set it back down between them.

"How are the restrooms?" Ben asked, chancing conversation as he folded his yellow paper and tucked it in the pocket of his coat lying on the seat.

Riley said nothing.

x x x

Maddox held the phone closer to his ear, eyebrows rising. "Really?"

"Yes," Myers said.

Whittacre's lips curled into a smile.

"Well. I don't know what to say," he laughed. "But here's the plan."

x x x

Near midnight, the train was nearing its final stop of the evening in Baltimore. Carolyn had dozed off against the window, her feet curled up on the seat under her coat next to Riley's leg. Riley sat up out of his slouch as he expanded and compressed his chest with his shoulders, hissing when the injured one reached its maximum range of motion. Ben and Abigail looked up from their phones where they had been accessing information about the next stop on their treasure conquest. Carolyn stirred, her feet dropping to the ground as she stretched.

"Did anyone see the restroom on our way in earlier?" she asked.

"Riley, do you remember where it is?" Abigail asked, standing.

Riley looked at the white, navy, blue, and teal pinstriped carpeting. "To the right," he murmured, nodding as they thanked him on the way out.

For several minutes after the train came to a stop, he and Ben collected the loose papers scattered around the seats without word, stuffing them into the waste bin in the wall. Riley picked a small yellow ball packed into the grooves on the underside of his shoe and dug it out with his finger.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben watched the same dark anger on his face thrive since boarding, since having Whittacre's words ring horrible untruths in his head. Ben took a deep breath, carefully monitoring the frustration in his tone.

"I'm sorry, Riley. For everything. But I wasn't going to let him have you."

"And the kids?" Riley suddenly laughed. "Your dad? They're expendable, right? I guess you just start with the sidekick and move on up the list now."

"Everything I am doing is to get my family back!"

Riley glared at him. "_No!_ Everything you are _doing_ is for _you. You_ have to figure this out for your mother, for your own closure-"

"For my _family_!" Ben snarled. "Are you even going to let me _explain_ before you jump to the conclusion that I was trying to have you murdered?"

Suddenly, the door slammed open. A group of FBI agents swarmed over Ben, jerking him from his seat and putting him in handcuffs. His mind firing in a thousand directions from the bombardment, Ben ceased to move when he saw Riley sitting calmly in his seat having not even flinched.

Horror tremored over him as he met Riley's cold, hollow eyes and watched him whisper, "No."

Ben tried to buck out of the grasp of the men, his teeth clenched and neck thrashing. "Riley!"

Riley stared as the four men in coal black suits yanked Ben upright, the famed historian grimacing as the handcuffs dug into his wrist bones. A fifth FBI agent wearing a smug grin entered the compartment then, and Riley stood.

"Thank you very much for the tip, Mr. Poole." Ben's eyes doubled in size. "My name is Agent Joseph Myers, and I am a… a liaison to Maddox Whittacre if you will."

Riley's eyes shifted, the sickening sense of wrongdoing prickling from his scalp to over a billion nerve endings all over his body.

Myers smiled. "You've heard of him."

The kindly aged man stood between the momentary, fearful eye contact Riley had made with Ben. "Mr. Whittacre would like to thank you for supplying him with the whereabouts of Mr. Gates here. He will exceedingly easier to monitor now as his treasure hunt progresses.

Riley tried to interject as Myers went on, but he was too struck to make words. Ben's face panned into an unreadable expression as Riley's heart leapt to his throat.

"_Maddox has guys on the inside of the FBI…"_

"As a thank you, Mr. Whittacre has had the FBI drop all charges against you, Mrs. Gates, and Miss Howe. He requests that you end your pursuit of the treasure, however. You do not want to get in his way, especially if you want to see the children again.

"Now there are a lot of cameras out there ready to see you."

"C-cameras?" Riley stammered.

"Maddox likes a lot of show," Myers said. "Benjamin Gates is in the custody of the FBI after kidnapping his once trusted accomplice? On top of grand theft, conspiracy, attempted murder? Of course there will be _cameras_, Mr. Poole. Ben Gates is on his way to federal prison. And Ian Howe isn't here to set him free this time."

Riley paled as they led Ben out of the room, the hushed roar of the paparazzi and reporters out in the station making him dizzy and the air unbreathable.

x x x

Abigail's mouth fell open as she and Carolyn came face to face with the FBI agents holding Ben in custody. Myers flashed his badge and began to push past them.

"Agent Myers of the FBI, Mrs. Gates. Your husband is under arrest for crimes from attempted murder to robbery."

"Ben!" Her hands reached out desperately for him through the muscled bodies of the agents where she was able to find a small window of his face. "Ben!"

"Get to the Statehouse," he said low and quick, fighting to see her for only a second longer. "Get to Statehouse, and don't worry about me." He was jerked away.

"Ben!"

"Get there before he does!"

In an instant, the agents had cleared the tight aisle, leaving Abigail and Carolyn against the wall, breathless. Immediately, the two women dashed to their compartment to find Riley standing in a stupor, his eyes affixed in a portion of invisible space as his chest rose and fell quickly.

"Riley! Riley, what happened!" Abigail asked, seizing his shoulders.

He shook himself back to the compartment. "I don't know," he gasped, grabbing at the stomach of his shirt uneasily. "They just came in and took him."

"It's Whittacre," Carolyn sighed.

Riley's eyes darted to her. "What?"

"The meteorologist, Harper, back in Allenhurst. He told us that Maddox had people on the inside."

Riley blinked, his face heavy with guilt, shock, and consequence. Existence was blank and vile, devouring him in his own foul treachery and deceit.

_What have I done?_

Abigail ran her hands over her face as Carolyn took her and Ben's coats in her arms, watching Riley's devil shoulder tauntingly smirk something triumphant. She frowned.

"We need to get to the next clue," Carolyn said, eyes still on her unresponsive fiancé.

"I can't go without him," Abigail said. "If this is Whittacre-"

"This _is_ Whittacre," Carolyn interrupted, touching Abigail's arm, "and Ben is right. Getting to the next compass is what we have to do. If we make it there first, we can trade it to get Ben and the kids back."

Slowly, Abigail nodded, exhaling polluted thoughts as she walked into the doorway of the compartment, looking in either direction with a stale sense of inner strength clad over her pounding heart. "Let's go this way. Hurry."

x x x

"Oh, please don't look so sullen, Mr. Gates. You're supposed to smile for these people."

Ben's snarl was illuminated by the bright flashes of the large cameras before the doors of the police truck were slammed shut and locked. Joseph Myers maneuvered impatiently through the crowd of reporters shouting at him, their greedy curiosity making the dank, spring night hot and toxic. He got into the passenger seat of the truck, motioned for the driver to go, and called Maddox.

"Congratulations, Myers," Maddox greeted happily. "You've got Gates. Feel better now?"

"He hasn't said anything, and I doubt that will change once we get to the station," Myers said. "We'll be transferring him to a federal facility in D.C. in the morning. If you want to meet us there to speak with him, I can arrange it."

"I won't be able to be there in person," Maddox said as Myers picked at the skin around his thumb. "Abigail is headed for that next clue. I need to be there first, but I have no leads on where the location might be."

"Gates told his wife to get to the Statehouse," Myers said. "Get there before you do. I would assume with the hearts stitched on their sleeves they would come after Gates first."

Myers heard Maddox shake his head. "I'm not assuming anything."

"Is Miss Jackson with you?"

Myers listened to Whittacre sigh heavily. "No. No, she's bringing Patrick Gates and his grandchildren down from Boston. "

"What about those two imbeciles from the boat?"

"Mr. Kacy is AWOL, and Dominic is back in Roanoke. If my whole crew goes missing, the press will be suspicious. I will have to return there myself soon to check in on the excavation. I'd have Priscilla do it, but I need some face time with the Project documentary team. I wish she could at least arrange a way for me to get there. I can't just put everything on hold for this, but I can't do it all at the same time."

"That's what your assistant is for after all, Maddox."

"God. I'm lost without this woman sometimes, Myers, I tell you." A brief silence echoed through the murmuring static. When Maddox said no more, the agent smiled into the phone.

"Get to the Statehouse. You're going to lose them if you don't."

x x x

Abigail successfully led Riley and Carolyn out of the bustling station without being recognized by anyone. The chaos surrounding Ben's arrest had everyone's full attention, giving them an opportunity to escape into the salty, sulfuric taste of Baltimore. Its glistening nighttime backdrop was merely a curtain to be parted to the Maryland Statehouse in Annapolis some thirty miles on.

After acquiring some fresh clothes and a rental from a man who was pretty sure Carolyn looked like the woman who was married to Benjamin Gates ("you know, the man who was just arrested?"), they were bound for the Maryland Statehouse and her Old Senate Chamber.

Riley drove. It required little active mental process, something he could do functioning almost entirely on auto pilot as his self-conscience hammered at him relentlessly, unwilling to let him see any bout of hope or forgiveness that might materialize from this situation. Carolyn was sitting next to him tired and straight-faced; Abigail was catching some precious sleep in the backseat.

"Ben sent the meteorologist because he knew he wouldn't kill us."

Carolyn's head lolled over to her left shoulder. Riley knew that she had figured out why Ben had been arrested aside from Whittacre's promise to 'see them at the end of the line.' His body ached with shame.

Riley stared on as the orange highway lights swept over his rough face.

"I messed up, Carolyn. I really, _really_ messed up."

"Yes," she whispered, a pebble of pity dissolving her acidic anger. "Yes you did."

Riley's chest heaved, his head falling to his collarbone momentarily. "How can I fix it?"

"I don't know that it's possible," she answered honestly, gazing out the windshield as the white dashes disappeared under their beige Corolla. "But if you want to, if you _really want to_," she said softly, "maybe there's a chance that you can."

Riley swallowed. "He'll never forgive me for this."

Carolyn reached over to his hand dangling on the edge of the center console and rubbed it.

"You'd be surprised."

x x x

"Can we go home now?"

Priscilla gripped the edge of the countertop, shutting her eyes. _Why did you have me bring them here, Maddox? I don't care how nice this damn suite is, I better get something good out of playing babysitter to these four insolate-_

"We need to go to Grandpa's house," Sally said from her seat at the bar next to her brother, "because no one has been there to feed Champ for him!"

Priscilla snatched the trash from their Happy Meals off the counter when Charlie popped the last bite of his hamburger into his mouth. "Champ?" she asked. "Is that your dog?"

Charlie leveled his eyebrows. "It's Grandpa's dog. And his name isn't Quincy."

The raven haired woman stared at him. "I'd assume not as you said his name was Champ."

"No," Patrick said, coming out of the bathroom with Alex's small body wrapped in an oversized towel. "The dog's name _is _Quincy. _They_ call him Champ. And my dog is probably starving right now."

"Tell Whittacre about it," Priscilla said dismissively as a knock came at the door. "If he feels guilty enough, maybe he'll get you another labradoodle."She incurred a scowl from Patrick as she passed him.

"My dog is a golden retriever."

"Whatever, one of those."

Priscilla threw the door open impatiently, her callous expression lightening at the sight of Whittacre in the hall. He smiled politely, stepping into the doorway as Patrick looked on suspiciously.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up," Priscilla muttered.

"I know, and I apologize, but I have to be quick. I need you to hold on to them for just a little while longer."

Priscilla sighed. "What?"

"Myers has Gates, and I'm about to go meet the others," he said in a hushed tone to appease her frustration. "I don't care if you stay here or go on a road trip, just keep them out of our way and unharmed until I call you."

"Maddox…"

"We're close, Priscilla. So – close!"

"Mr. Whittacre! Mr. Whittacre!" Charlie came running to the door, grinning ear to ear up at Maddox. "Can we go on your boat now?"

"Yeah, you promised!" Sally called from the bar stool.

Maddox huffed. "You want to go on a boat? A big boat? Much larger than mine?"

"Yeah!" the twins chorused loudly.

Maddox's hands flew out to the side, a broad smile filling his face as he turned to Priscilla. "Then it's settled! Grab the first cruise ship out of here in the morning."

Charlie and Sally immediately screeched with joy, jumping up and down and hugging Patrick around the waist.

"Wait just a second!" Patrick said. "I want to see my son!"

"You'll see him soon enough," Whittacre called from the door. "You're getting to take a nice vacation with the grandchildren. It'll be good for all of you."

A hard tug came at his shirt.

"Maddox, I am not going to be stuck on a cruise ship _babysitting _these people," Priscilla said hotly through gritted teeth. Whittacre held up a hand as she let go of his shirt.

"Darling, you do everything I ask of you without so much as a groan." He took his left hand out from behind his back, handing her a young, white rose bud. Her brown eyes grew in his, and his hand slid over her petite hipbone. "Next cruise, just us."

The corners of her mouth rose. "Maddox Whittacre, you are all charm."

He gently lowered his lips to hers for the briefest moment. "And a little unscrupulous at times, wouldn't you say?" Priscilla smiled to the floor as he straightened in the doorway, hand on the doorknob. "Be on your best behavior, kids! When you get back, your parents will want to see you!"

Both twins had resorted to expending their excitement jumping on the first bed.

"Thanks, Mr. Whittacre!"

"We'll get you a souvenir!"

"Lovely," Maddox chuckled, stepping out. He looked over at Priscilla, her eyes smoothing glancing from the creamy linoleum to his face. "I will see you soon."

With that, the door shut. Priscilla stared at the sink's cabinets, touching the silky white bud to her upturned lips.

"He's a good man."

Priscilla looked up at the unexpected sincerity in Patrick's voice as he walked away.

"If he's not in jail by the end of this, I wish you the best." Off her scornful look, he shrugged. "What do you think I had to tell my daughter-in-law?"

**. Please Review .**


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